“Holy hell” yelled Jeff, “we have to get this thing out of here”

Pete agreed and grabbed his coat to go outside and get the truck. Just then the pair heard a growl at the front door. They stood still and listened intently…BANG…something smacked onto the door causing the whole wall to shake.

Jeff yelled out “It the freaking fegger Pete – it’s come to hang me with me wonker – what the hell am I gonna do?”

Pete grabbed the shotgun from the hall cupboard and blasted a hole into the door. The creature let out an almighty screaming bellow. In a rage the beast smashed its head through the window. Pete raised his gun and was about to blast it again when Jeff called out “Bloke – it’s not a fegger, it’s a friggen moose”.

Pete looked “My lord, right you are, and a Frostbite Falls Canadian moose at that – how did that thing get here I wonder?” The moose however was enraged and was thrashing like an epileptic hippo at a rage concert, and was still trying to get into the house.

Jeff yelled “Shoot the freaking thing”.

Pete took pity on the animal however and did not shoot. “No, there’s no need. We just have to calm it down”.

“WHAT – how the hell do you do that – it wants to freaking bite my freaking head off and crap down me freaking neck?” screamed Jeff.

“Poetry – these things love poetry. It will put it to sleep”.

Jeff hurriedly began “Ok – there once was a man from kentucket, who got a big turkey to fu”, but the moose became even more enraged. “It aint working Pete – it’s just getting crankier”.

Pete snapped back, “Don’t tell it rubbish poetry. Tell it classy poetry. Nothing upsets a Frostbite Falls Canadian moose more than rubbish poetry. It needs to be told excellent poetry. Quick, tell it something from here – either something from Kate Smedley or Bullwinkle Muse”. Pete threw his book ‘pocket full of awesome poetry’ at Jeff.

Jeff caught the book and started to read the first poem he could find, “Ok moosey – here’s one from Kate called After the Storm – You left me that day, And the sky sobbed, A deluge of despair…” within moments the moose started to calm down and then after a couple of more poems went to sleep. Jeff stomped over to Pete and punched him in the head. “That was no friggen fegger berry – it was a moose nut”

Pete punched Jeff in the nose, “If it’s a damn moose nut, then how do you explain the green glow in the dark?”

Jeff kicked Pete in the crotch “It’s obvious you moron. I have been spraying the trees down the back paddock with green florescent paint – marking which ones were to be cleared. This friggen moose must have been scratching its butt on the trees, and the paint rubbed onto its gozzers”

Pete smashed his elbow across Jeff’s jaw “So you must have hit the moose with the truck and it was running around injured. You then shot its nut off and then it followed you back here”

Jeff punched Pete in the stomach “Yeah, I suppose”.

They both stumbled outside to see if the moose was ok and to see if it needed medical attention. Pete lifted its back leg but quickly leaped back in horror. Jeff queried “What’s the matter bloke?”

Pete could hardly talk “It…it..errr..it has both its bangers…you didn’t shoot this moose!”

“You mean I…” they both finished the sentence together “did shoot a fegger!”

From the deep dark came the sound of nasty little scurrying noises. Jeff looked over at Pete who was standing against the wall frozen with terror. The noises were coming from all around the house. There were even sounds on the roof, claws scratching on tin, and they were getting closer and closer. His hand shaking Jeff held up his torch and to his dread a hundred pairs of green ovals glowed back at him. Jeff yelled out “HOLY FU..” but before he could finish the feggers all shrieked in unison and were instantly upon him.