Ugg and Lugg are out of the cave…

But first…
Dulltown, UK/Europe: Today’s existential angst is centred around the sound of the word monolith.

‘Hello Ugg… Hey, what’s that red mark on your forehead?’
‘It’s nothing Lugg…’
‘Look, there’s a spot of blood on it – better slap a bit of that moss from the damp corner of the cave on it… How did it happen?’
‘Well, I was just coming out of the cave this morning…’
‘Going to the weekly mammoth disembowelling?’
‘No, Lugg, I didn’t really fancy it today… and, well, someone threw a stone at my head Lugg.’
‘Was it a jagged stone Ugg?’
‘Jagged? Fairly jagged Lugg.’
‘Who was it threw it then?’
‘It was Holy-Man Gugg.’
‘Holy-Man Gugg? No!’
‘Well, that’s not at all like Holy-Man Gugg Ugg!’
‘I know, I was wondering why he did it, but then I bumped into Strange Old Wise-Man Bugg, he’d just seen what happened.’
‘And what did he say?’
‘He said he thought that Holy-Man Gugg didn’t like the way that… Well, the way me and you share a cave Lugg…’
‘Yes I know, I didn’t get it either.’
‘You see Lugg, Holy-Man Gugg thinks that it’s “not natural”…’
‘Not natural? What’s that mean?’
‘I don’t know, but for some reason he’s not very keen on you and me sleeping together in the night – it upsets the gods…’
‘Upsets the gods? When do the gods want us to sleep then?’
‘No, no, Lugg, you don’t quite get it. He thinks the gods would be happier if we had a woman move in.’
‘A woman? Which woman Ugg?’
‘It doesn’t matter which one Lugg – apparently if we carry on as we are, the gods will make noisy storms and famines, vicious flying flappy animals, nasty rough nipping fish in the stream, and there’ll be no more mammoths…’
‘No more mammoths Ugg? Just because me and you…’
‘That’s what Holy-Man Gugg thinks Lugg.’
‘It sounds to me like, like a load of old bat dung!…’
‘That’s funny, that’s just what Strange Old Wise-Man Bugg said.’
‘Did he?… Did Strange Old Wise-Man Bugg say anything else Ugg?’
‘Yes, he said that he was going to go round and have a serious word with Holy-Man Gugg, and possibly give him a good smack on the head!’
‘Yes, but a just metaphorical smack though…’
‘A what?’
‘Never mind Lugg. Come here and give us a kiss.’
‘Right ho Ugg…’

And so, gayness was discovered.

About Dave Whatt

Grumpy old surrealist artist, musician, postcard maker, bluesman, theatre set designer, and debonair man-about-town. My favourite tools are the plectrum and the pencil...
This entry was posted in archeology, brain, conversation, cool, drama, existentialism, history, humour, learning, puzzle, religion, sex, thinking and tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

5 Responses to Ugg and Lugg are out of the cave…

  1. Sharon Mann says:

    Good Morning, you have me laughing Dave.

  2. Jheron Bash says:

    Ooh, those cheeky cave-boys!

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