Amontillado's Treasure- Mason Mill Park, Atlanta, Ga (659 hits)
Category: NoneRating: 1.75 on 15 reviews (Rate this item) (V)
Submitted by monkeyswithguns (View user info) at 2007-11-08 19:50:19 EST
I've completed the second treasure drop in Mason Mill Park, Atlanta, Ga. Since I felt like I was selling myself short last time, this time I decided to post the story instead of just attaching it as a piece of paper.
BTW, Ghola, if you read this, I'd appreciate it if you still have Leroy's story, if you could email me a transcript of it so that I can claim credit for my work.
"The Fat Man on the Mountain"
There once was a man who lived for the moment. He ate at the finest dining establishments, drank the finest liquors, bet on the swiftest horses, and slept with the finest prostitutes.
When he had money, he spent it immediately, and when he had none, he worked long enough to pay his debts, restore his credit, and live well for a few weeks, before he began the cycle once more, exactly where he began at the beginning of the month.
This feast and famine mindset suited him well enough, and he never went more than a few days without having a bacchanalia of such a scale that monks from the surrounding provinces had need to pray overtime, to make up for the sins accrued throughout the night(s).
One fall morning, the man woke up hung-over, brushed the sleeping rent-a-girl off of his shoulder, and sat at the table beneath the window of his room. As he watched the sun-rise, wiping the drool from his chin, he heard the song of a bird he had never seen before.
The intoxicating sounds bewitched his addled mind, and as the bird flittered from one tree to the next, the man walked out of the inn, and followed the strange bird deep into the forest. For days, he walked as in a dream, crashing through brambles, bumping off trees, and rolling down hills as he chased the source of his fascination.
When at last the man stopped, realizing he would never catch the bird, nor would the bird ever stop evading his grasp, he found that he was on the side of the great holy mountain, deep in the wilds. He didn't know which way led back to his village, and as he was now conscious of the world, and the dangers around him, he didn't dare wander far from the security of his cave.
There on the side of the mountain, he lived for the next 20 years, always scraping by, growing his food in the loose rocky soil, and catching the fish from the mountain streams. He grew old, and his hair fell out. His belly grew larger and larger, and he grew man-boobs. His teeth began to fall from his head, and his face became like a crumpled old piece of paper, wrinkled beyond recognition.
One day, he heard the same magical bird song that had drawn him here so long ago floating through the air, and once again, his mind drifted into the same deep trance which he had experienced in his youth. His body, though heavy with the weight of his gluttony, and his bones brittle with age, began to float once again, and he drifted along as the delicate muse once again flittered through the tree-tops, always one tree ahead.
He floated once more through patches of thorn bushes, and rolled down the hills, and bounced off the trees, and eventually, he came to the village of his birth.
Here, the bird once again took flight beyond his hearing, and once again, the man awoke from his dream. Realizing where he was, the man rejoiced, and at once went searching for the joys he had known previously.
He set to work, and raising some money, immediately set off to relive his youth, carousing through the alleyways at night and calling out to the girls and the waiters: "More food! More wine! More women!"
But he could no longer eat solid food, as his teeth had all fallen out, so all he could have was fish-head soup.
He could no longer hold his liquor, and when he drank he would quickly pass out.
When he went to bed with a woman, his great belly got in the way of their lovemaking, and she would laugh at how large his bosoms were.
One cool dawn in autumn, the old, fat man awoke and sat at the table beneath his window to eat his bowl of cold porridge. The magical bird who had led him to the mountain and back flew to his windowsill, and began singing the same magical song.
The old fat man broke into a smile, and the magic of the birdsong changed him into a statue. The inn owner walked in that Friday and finding the man gone without paying rent, decided to keep the mysterious statue in lieu of payment.
In the form of this statue, this old, fat, smiling man has passed down through generations, until it's previous owner, a young Burmese kid named Gee Soon, heard a bird singing in the window outside of his shack. The boy floated as in a trance from his tiny village to the dockyards, and from the dockyards to the ship, and from the ship to the port, and from the port to the city of Atlanta.
Here the boy realizing he was far from home, and without being able to speak the native tongue, began working wherever he could, breaking into the age old cycle of feast and famine.
One day as he sat in his hotel room, penniless and sober, he decided to sell all of his belongings and move back home.
I found the statue at Smiley's flea market in Macon, Ga, and bought it for $3.00 from an old black lady running a booth selling carpets with profiles of Africa that were made in Mexico, cheap gold jewelry, and voodoo satchels.
The End.
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I have NO idea where this stuff comes from. Took me 30 min. Hope you enjoy him Amontillado.
Post a camwhore with him for an instant +2.
Also, that was a great little spot. Thank you for sharing your secret place. I wish I could do all the graffiti justice with my sketch, but I only had 30 min. so I just got the bare essentials to lead you to the prize.
User Reviews
Submitted by Sacrilicious (user info) at 2007-11-12 23:05:24 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
This is one of the most endearing little games I've seen here since we sent ghola pie.
http://www.ubersite.com/m/86759
Submitted by TheDoctor (user info) at 2007-11-09 14:26:28 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by TheUniter (user info) at 2007-11-09 13:15:04 EST (#)
Ranking: 1
Submitted by triangle_man (user info) at 2007-11-09 12:32:23 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
I love treasure
Submitted by CaptainThorns (user info) at 2007-11-09 10:24:33 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
I enjoyed the story. For the love of God, resize the pic next time, though.
Submitted by Amontillado (user info) at 2007-11-09 09:40:33 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
He shall keep my other Buddha statue company!
Submitted by Brdn_Nkd (user info) at 2007-11-09 09:12:13 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
I want a treasure..... come to madison.
Submitted by LegoSockPuppet (user info) at 2007-11-09 07:24:49 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
I think I remember that lady . . .
Submitted by orph (user info) at 2007-11-09 06:33:18 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
i liked this story
Submitted by haikumikoo (user info) at 2007-11-08 22:20:48 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by HadToBeDone (user info) at 2007-11-08 22:19:20 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
Email, fuckstick.
Submitted by Lib (user info) at 2007-11-08 20:06:32 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Nice
Submitted by Amontillado (user info) at 2007-11-08 19:56:40 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Wait, never mind. I remember where Homer is now.
Submitted by Amontillado (user info) at 2007-11-08 19:55:39 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Please tell me that's the set of stairs that don't lead to the nasty swamp pit.
Submitted by monkeyswithguns (user info) at 2007-11-08 19:51:45 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
sorry about the large picture, will try harder next time.