By Patrick F. McManus
A wild selection of brief and not-so-short tales from stand-up comedian Patrick F. McManus.
The Horse in My storage and different Stories is a hilarious addition to Patrick F. McManus’s present paintings in humor. the writer weighs in on his youth, lifestyle, and open air stories together with his ordinary exaggerated observation that may elicit a stomach snort from every kind of readers.
Read concerning the antics of Patrick’s associates Rancid Crabtree and Retch Sweeney in such tales as “Shaping Up for the Hunt” and “Bear Hunters.” McManus performs off the hot obsession with hoarders in his superb tale “The girl Who stored Things.” within the titular tale, meet Patrick’s horse, Huckleberry, and luxuriate in the event of all of the difficulties that come in addition to possessing your individual horse—or maintaining him within the garage.
Other nice tales include:
• “Catch-And-Eaters,” concerning the value of a forked stick whilst fishing
• “$7000 television ancient Extravaganza,” a glance at one director’s unfastened interpretation of historic accuracy and political correctness
• “A Lake Too Far,” about the woes of Patrick and his spouse, Bun, on a fateful birding journey in Australia
• “Chicken Chronicles,” which contains Patrick’s reminiscence of wandering round bare within the poultry backyard while site visitors got here to call
So pull up a chair, relax, and revel in guffawing to the hilarious adventures of Patrick F. McManus within the Horse in My storage and different Stories.
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Additional resources for The Horse in My Garage and Other Stories
It’s immoral. Taking bets on how many deaths there are going to be in my current case? What’s that going to do for my reputation? I curse everyone roundly. So irate am I that I actually march out of the tavern without picking up a beer and I can’t remember the last time I did that. I need to get to the Mermaid to recover the pendant as quickly as possible, so I set off at a brisk pace, promising myself that I’ll have more than a few harsh words for Makri and Gurd when I get back. Youthful dwa dealers hover round the alleyway that leads to the Mermaid.
Nothing happens. No wagons come. As Casax the Brotherhood boss sees his headquarters starting to disappear in flames, he becomes agitated. He screams for his men to bring water from neighbouring houses, waving his fists to encourage them. The way the flames are taking hold, I doubt that this is going to do much good. Normally I’d enjoy seeing the Mermaid burning to the ground. However, it strikes me that it’s hardly helpful to my immediate purposes. I approach Casax. He doesn’t acknowledge me, being too busy trying to save the tavern to pay any attention to an unwelcome Investigator.
The heat mingles with the smell of rancid ale and burning dwa. Thazis smoke drifts over the tables. The wooden beams overhead are blackened with age. The prostitute who patrols the area with red ribbons in her hair strives vainly to interest the largely inebriated clientele. There’s a woman on the floor who looks like she might be dead. I shake my head. This is about as low as life gets. No civilised person would visit this tavern. “Thraxas! ” I come here occasionally. Mainly in the line of business.
The Horse in My Garage and Other Stories by Patrick F. McManus