Message-ID: <thomas.944166744@bubba>
Newsgroups: talk.bizarre
Subject: FTSD (Belated): 1.
From: (Rollin Thomas)
Lines: 62
Date: 2 Dec 99 20:32:24 GMT
X-Trace: 944166972 (Thu, 02 Dec 1999 14:36:12 CST)
NNTP-Posting-Date: Thu, 02 Dec 1999 14:36:12 CST
Organization: The University of Oklahoma

These are four more stories I am adding to the history of Platillo.
If you don't remember the original stories, they were posted in
February.  I worked on revising them all and expanding them, but got
so sick of the story I quit.  These are stories leading up the the
events I wrote about extemporaneously and at length in February
with occasional additions since.  I hope these additions fail to suck.

Matilda Cook's mother cannibalized the ruins of a nearby colonial 
mission to construct the building that would later become her 
daughter's vegetarian restaurant.  Cubic and red, these stones were 
originally placed by Indian slaves.  These same Indians later attacked 
the mission when demands for tribute grew too great.  Most of the 
poorly protected Jesuits fled into the surrounding forest, only to 
find their fates under the teeth of coyotes.  The Indians brutally 
decapitated the remaining man of the cloth, placing his head just so 
upon a little plate from the cupboard.  Because of this incident, the 
town was named Platillo.

Many years later, after the Spaniards had gone, Platillo consisted of 
a single wooden building among the conifers, ensconced in the 
mountains of southern New Mexico.  A multipurpose establishment, this 
building housed a hotel, bar, whorehouse and notary public.  The 
Platillo whorehouse boasted well-trained and exotic women from China 
and Bali, the love potions and aphrodesia of Persia and Egypt and the 
utterly mysterious and fragrant lotions of deepest, darkest India.  
They had brought with them exotic felines, adding to the relaxed and 
certainly lazy atmosphere of the establishment.  According to the earthy
proprietress of the whorehouse, ``Madam,'' the presence of the cats 
reduced the chance of conception.  As long as their cathouse was open, 
it appeared to succeed as a measure.

A post office and telegraph station opened next, but beyond that the 
town did not grow.  The descendents of the clergy-consuming coyotes 
still concealed themselves in the nearby forests, and the washed-up 
prospectors who took up temporary residence in the Platillo Hotel 
found themselves frequently obliged to form parties to hunt down the 
coyotes.  After months of haphazard and untrained tracking and hunting, 
they finally killed one and brought it back to hang in front of the 
hotel.  They promised that this would protect their ladies' pet cats, 
which had accounted for the largest fraction of coyote-caused 

That night, while the drunken former prospectors caroused with the fine 
ladies of the Orient, the white eyes of the coyotes watched from the 
edge of the forest, waiting.  They found a Javanese girl of fourteen 
pissing in the outhouse after the windows in the hotel were dark, 
surrounded her and tore her to pieces in minutes, coating the side of 
the shack with the spray of her blood.

Rather than consider this act a simple coincidence, virtually all of 
the men in residence at the hotel took this as a direct act of 
retaliation and feared further reprisals to come.  Instead of 
rising to the challenge and fearlessly marching into the forest to
bring revenge against the enemy, they fled to other less coyote
infested areas.  The forlorn prostitutes and their cats, the young
telegraph operator and a fifteen year old mail clerk were left alone
with the first snows began to fall.
  Rollin C. Thomas - -
               "Good job, You.  Now back to work."