Ozzy, the long haired animal
You know, there are days when you get the weirdest requests. I get this text. Dan, we need a long haired animal. Right, any? I replied. Any! We don’t care. It needs long hair and we need it now! Okay? Fine. I though. But Ozzy wouldn’t be happy at this time of the day
At this point I might have to explain a little here. My name is Dan. I manage some of the day in day out stuff for Ozzy. Like when people want to book a celebrity for a show or function. To be honest I have no clue who that guy was that sent me that text requesting a long haired animal. But I do know there is an agency just down the road from us who do animal photography. The animal handler, who is a friend of mine, also called Dan, has a similar number to ours. In the past I just sent Dan, the animal handler, a txt explaining the mixup. This time however, I felt like I take matters into my own hands. After all, they need to learn to call the right person.
It’s about 8 am. That’s usually not the time Ozzy is up and running. For most of us 8 is like late afternoon. For Ozzy it’s still the dead of night. Even lunch time is still out of question. He ordinarily crawls out of coma by 2 in the afternoon. Especially since things are a little bit quieter these days. Now the fun part. I have to wake up Ozzy.
Shouting at him is useless. I reckon he is death as a post. He clearly hears some key words, even when whispered. Some of the words are Death, Chicken, Stage and Boo. I don’t use Boo. It usually sends him into a rage and I then have to refurbish the room. And so I walk into the room, turn the lights and smoke machine on and whisper; ‘Death is coming and the chickens run amok”. With that I turn the large spotlight on.
Who has a large spotlight and a smoke machine in their bedroom? Your question is valid. But just think about it, it’s Ozzy we’re talking about here.
Ozzy shoots up in bed like an arrow and starts shouting. He grabs the corner post of the bed and yells some lines from Crazy Train. That’s it he is awake. That works best in the afternoon. At 8 in the morning I sometimes require a coal shovel. That’s right, a coal shovel. I broad side him with it and job’s done. Then I drag him into the kitchen and feed him some good old wake up soup. I tell him that we are going to a gig and Ozzy is happy. He doesn’t want to know where we go.
We arrive at the animal photography place a short time later. We walk in and all is fine. We are approached by some guy who seems to be too young and too self-righteous to know who Ozzy is. We get a ‘What d’ya want?’. I have your long haired animal… I answer back. This guy was fun, he changed colour three times and then started to yell at us in an incoherent fashion. Ozzy wasn’t fully awake yet. That suited me to a tee. I stepped back a couple of feet and said “Booooo”.
What follows is priceless.
The end
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