After many months of attempting to ask the spirits for guidance in seeking an Ornery candidate for the upcoming presidential election, Madame Sadie has decided to return to whatever she does best, uh....predicting people's future's, for a price. (In her case, she charges $13.11, the same exact price for a 24-pack of Bud Lite, plus tax.) I've heard from my Aunt Fairweather and (adopted) Aunt Willard that Madame has been a little upset after hearing that Stephen Colbert had dropped out of the presidential race. I'm guessing she's in an awful mess. Last time I heard, she was walking around the streets of our little hometown, chucking beer cans and insults at whoever was paying attention, which landed her a 24-hour sentence in the city jail. I felt so sorry for her that I had Aunt Fairweather to go to the candy store in the neighboring city and pick up a box of rum cookies as a means of comfort for the lady. Aunt Fairweather offered to deliver my gift to Madame's house, but I refused, explaining that I hadn’t seen her in a while and that it was about time to see her again.
It was a brisk Saturday afternoon when I came to Madame's brink pink house with the box of cookies in one arm and the other reached out to knock the door. Boy, this is gonna be fun. I thought to myself. The last time I seen Madame was when I was about 13 (that is before Halloween Aunt Fairweather reminds me), I believe. I can remember seeing her hover over her crystal ball, muttering something about me meeting a kind, dark-haired young man in my late teens. Evidently, she was right about something for once- my boyfriend has dark hair and is, in fact, the nicest guy on the face of the planet. However, I only believe this prediction to be a true coincidence- there are a lot of dark haired boys in my hometown, so it could have been any one of them. I didn't understand what Madame had always claimed to have seen in that crystal ball of hers because as far as I was concerned, I seen far more different stuff floating around in there. Like my adopted Aunt Willard, I too am more psychic than Madame Sadie, but I don't want to hurt any feelings, so I always keep those abilities under wraps. Finally, after much anticipation, I knocked on the door as hard as I could, saying, "I know you're in there, you old bat, so come on out!" After a couple of minutes, I heard this God-awful commotion going on in there, followed by the door creaking its way open. It needed some WD-40, bad. Madame Sadie appeared to be in a mess, all right. Her graying hair was all frazzled and she looked really tired. She looked down at me through the screen door and demanded sheepishly, "Who are you? What do you want?" "I'm Miss A, remember? You know, Fairweather and Willard's niece? I just wanted to stop by and give my condolences...." “Fairweather and Willard, huh? Well, there ain't no funeral goin' on here, so scram." Madame interrupted me. "Wait! You didn't here what I was about to say...." She rolled her eyes and asked, "What?!" "Madame, I heard you were upset over Stephen Colbert dropping out of the Democratic presidential campaign, so I decided to cheer you up. Here..." I explained, raising the box of cookies to her level, "I bought these cookies for you. Aunt Fairweather told me these were your favorite kind." She grabbed the box from me and inspected it further, ripping the aluminum wrap from it into tiny shreds like a little girl on Christmas morning. Her eyes lit up when she read the label: Russell Stover rum cookies. She opened the tin and helped herself to one, and while she munched on her first cookie, she motioned for me to come inside and said, "Thank you, come on in, Miss A."
I walked into her house, which smelled faintly of Clorox, talcum powder, and some other cheap perfume (which I assumed was White Shoulders, judging by the cheap, strong smell) that I was having a hard time placing. She sat down in her parlor and motioned for me to come in, saying all the while, "Come in, child. This readin' is for free 'cause you got me those damn good cookies for me." 'Thanks." I answered her, not very sure about what was going on at the time. For a moment, she was beginning to complain that the crystal was dark and she couldn't see what was happening. Immediately, I grabbed some tissues from my purse and briskly dusted a layer of talcum powder from it, causing me and her to sneeze a full round before she announced that the crystal was officially clear. She waved her hands over the crystal for a moment and then stared at me, saying impressively, "I see a man, stranded in the snow with his friend...." "You do? Do you know who he is?" I asked curiously. She shook her head. I too looked into the crystal and saw the man stranded in the snow with his friend. I began to feel a little light-headed and this is what happened next:

Two men were standing out in a harsh snow field that was sprinkled with rocks here and there. After looking up, I began to realize that I was on a snowy mountain somewhere (Toto, I don't think I'm in Tennessee anymore) and it was so freaking cold. The other two guys didn't seem that bothered by the freezing climate and continued to chat on a serious subject. One of the men, as I noticed, was a pretty good looking man that sported a haughty British accent who was dressed in an orange parka. The other man was smaller than his companion, exhibiting a slight frailness to his demeanor. He had a cute, boyish face and a full head of curly brown hair. Like his friend, he also had a British accent, but his voice was that of a young man-someone about my age. The young guy spoke. He seemed worried. "Bear, I just wish that you wouldn't go on this crazy adventure. It's too dangerous! I don't want to see you get hurt again....it made me sad." Did he just say Bear? Wait- he isn't talking about Bear Grylls, is he? I continued to listen to the drama unfolding before me. "No matter how many times you ask me, Dakota, I will still say that I am going to break this world record. Not one man has ever paraglided around Mount Everest by himself before and I hope to make that change with your help." Dakota's bottom lip began to quiver pitifully and he found himself lost in a sudden surge of sniffles, trying his dangdest to speak, "B-but Bear, its n-not that. You're just setting yourself up for more danger. I beg you, I plead to you: please don't go flying around that mountain-it's too dangerous, even for you. You must know when your limitations are met, Bear! Everyone does."
Bear only flashed him that charming, trademark smile of his and said reassuringly, "Don't cry. I'm going to be okay. You'll see once I get done. It'll only be for a few minutes- then, I will be back here for you, all right, friend?" Dakota began to cry harder and managed to utter out, "You're going to die, Bear! The temperature will damage the motor and you'll fall to your death and I'll be alone in this world without you and I don't know what I'll do if that were to happen, so please, don't go!!!!" "My word is my bond. I will make it out alive. However, if this aircraft were to drop out the sky for any reason, you have every right to mourn over me when I leave this world and enter into the next. Understand?" Evidently, Dakota didn't see that as an answer and continued to blubber like an idiot. "Don't say that!" Dakota wailed like a 14-year-old girl. It was then that Bear tenderly put his arms around Dakota's waist and pulled the sniffling mess toward him sympathetically. He pushed aside a strand of Dakota's curly hair and looked him in the eye, saying softly, "I will be back, okay? You can trust me, can't you. Or is it because you don't want to lose me?" Dakota nodded his head sorrowfully and answered, "Y-yes. If I lost you, I don't know if I could live anymore in this crazy world. You're the best thing that's ever happened to my life, you know." Bear nodded his head and whispered, "Shhh...you can stop now. If not, let me take those fears away from you." Afterward, he leaned forward and kissed Dakota passionately on the lips; their bodies came together, softly at first, and then completely. I nearly hurled at the sight when I came to the realization of it all: Bear Grylls is gay. I can expect something this disturbing from Jeff Gordon and Jimmie Johnson, but not a macho military man like himself. However, there was a plus side to this odd discovery: Bear has the same taste in men as I do. Finally, when Bear pulled away, his dark eyes were filled with a gleaming promise to his companion. By then, Dakota calmed himself down enough to where he could finally speak normally and asked, "So, you'll promise me you'll come back in one piece, Bear?"
He nodded and said, 'It's a promise......."
My mouth dropped agape and I uttered the only phrase that my mind could only muster at the time: "What in the hell is this?!"
To be continued......

*With apologies to the real-life Bear Gyrlls, who in fact, hosts his own survival show on the Discovery Channel, Man vs. Wild. The allegations in this story are all are of fiction and are only meant to be of comedy, not spite. In fact, I’ve written a lot of stories which involve Jeff Gordon and Jimmie Johnson being a couple, but they weren’t meant out of ill will. Be sure to tune in next time to see my newest blog about how Boss has fallen from grace! Until next time, fair thee well…