Return Of The Mega-Nega

So.

It's been a crappy week for me, with no sign of improvement on the near horizon. That calls for a Big Nose Barney story.

BIG NOSE BARNEY VS THE MEGA-NEGA PART II

It were Saturday - comics day.

But no comics for Barney this week. He'd already been to the Dusty Gulch Nerd Convention last weekend and stocked up on enough action, adventure and feats of near-reason to last him at least as long as Agnes's trek through the desert lasted.

That's what he hoped, anyway.

She'd set out eight days ago, eight months after they'd first met at the wedding of Buck's second cousin Wilf and his fiancee who Barney couldn't 'member the name of. But he sure 'membered his first glimpse of Agnes, in her spirally, poofy dress and the way she tossed back the moonshine like no other and how she picked up all Wilf's second and third cousins' chilluns and heaved and hefted them about - landsakes, what a set of arms and her legs were pretty fine too. Barney had never seen such a woman before and knew right away he'd never see one like her again neither.

But that was then and this is now and the last he'd seen of Agnes were the rear of that poofy dress as she headed out into the desert and became a silhouette, then a snaky shimmer like a heatwave, then nothing at all as the blue air and yellow sand swallowed her up and she were gone. He kept watchin' for a while after that, but he din't make a move to follow - he'd promised her, after all. This was her desert trek, her very own, and no other guy or gal could help her find the Magic Cactus she were lookin' for. Barney could have drawn her a map, you see, but that map would only point to where he found his Cactus, and she weren't lookin' in that direction besides.

Nope.

Lookin' somewhere else entirely.

Right, so like I was sayin', it were comics day, but Barney weren't goin' to the Dusty Gulch Pharmacy to drop his three bits and pick up a little excitement. No, he'd sit here with his back against the rusty wellpipe and eat salt and vinegar potato chips by hisself, leastwise 'til his horse was done at the dentist and it was time to go pick him up.

But jest then--

The wind stirred up. Pebbles bounced. Tumbleweeds tumbled.

And there, standin' before Barney as it had nigh on a year ago, and still as big as it were back then ('cept mebbe a little duller on those sharp shoulders and spiky feet, but that could jest be the light) were the Mega-Nega. All 10 foot and some 'a it, all slimy and gross and fulla things that could scrape ya somethin' good if you got too close - 'cause the Mega-Nega, see, it might be ugly and mean and all that, but it loved hugs as much as the resta us and if it got a chance to come close enough, it'd hug you so tight it ain't never lettin' go. Barney knew that good.

The Mega-Nega laughed. It had a habit of spittin' when it laughed, so Barney got a couple drops a' the stuff on his nose (which were the first part of him that got anything on it, stickin' out as much as it did from the resta him).

That Mega-Nega spit sure did sting.

"Go away," said Barney, wipin' his nose.

"Why should I do that? It's much nicer here. And you look like you need a hug!"

"Not from you I sure dain't," Barney said, tryin' not to look at the Mega-Nega. If you stared at it long enough, you noticed its eyes were really deep, like this water in a dark pond with lots of other stuff underneath, and wouldn't it be neat to go down there and see what that water's surface was hidin'? Jest dip your toe in a bit, or mebbe both feet, and walk down a ways, mebbe waist-level, see, and then sheesh, before ya knew it you were swimmin' in there and even though it were cold, it weren't so bad and you got used to it anyway. Soon enough, you was one of those things under the surface of the water, and jest as hidden too. Jest as neat to look at from far away, which is exactly what Barney were tryin' not to do.

"Who else is going to hug you?" said the Mega-Nega, and even though it were only sayin' somethin', it sure felt like maybe the Mega-Nega were touchin' him.

"Don't need no hugs today," insisted Barney. "Goan be jest fine."

"Where's your horse? He leave you too?" asked the Mega-Nega. Barney weren't lookin', but he could sorta see the thing were standin' a bit closer to him now. There were a hairy tentacle at the corner of his eye, flippin' around some, and mebbe he should get up off the dirt and get his back away from that rusty wellpipe. But it were hot out today, and he liked the chill on his back. Better than salt and vinegar chips even.

Din't matter. That were definitely a hairy tentacle comin' closer.

Barney rose and stumbled back a ways. Dropped his chip bag too.

No comics today. Not today.

"Hey Barney," oozed the Mega-Nega. "There's no Magic Cactus out there for her. And this desert's biiig. She'll be searching forever and you won't see that spirally poofy dress again, not even the back of it. You better forget you ever saw it in the first place."

"No," said Barney, but he din't sound too sure of himself. He wanted to keep moving backward, but it were hard to go anywhere when you was doin' yer best not to really look at anything. He put a hand on the rusty wellpipe but it weren't cold no more. It were burnin' hot and he had to take his hand away. Did the Mega-Nega do that to the pipe? It had lots of powers. Mebbe this were one Barney din't know about yet.

He were rackin' his brain for the right fighting technique here. Should he try to drop-kick the Mega-Nega? Nope, it were taller than 'im. What about a body-slam? Dunna think so. That would mean he'd need to pick the thing up, and once his arms was around it, the Mega-Nega would start its tight huggin', the won't-let-go huggin', and that would be that. Mebbe he could trip it, and it would fall on its mean, mean face and maybe choke on its own stingy spit, which were still flyin', I should mention, every time it said one of its awful words.

Barney's friend Scosst from Ancient Rome Arenas could fight the Mega. Even clumsy Buck would stand a chance with his five-shooter. And Zynacor, if she were watchin', she'd come down from the clouds up there and give Barney a big knife or somethin', to chop up that hairy tentacle. But ain't none of them here. Just Barney, a rusty wellpipe, and a spilled bag of potato chips. No comics at all.

The Mega-Nega opened its arms. Barney had to think fast.