Broadway Bod Busters

A Christmas Goose

By Ken Burdick

What's good For the Goose


Yes Folks, it's true.

By now many of you know about the recent security breach at the BBB's Laboratory. The thing is, it's not so much the secret stuff that was lost to Santa-Mike and his band of Beavers, but rather the preamble and results of our additional security system (flock of stupid geese) that has caused the BBB a slight setback.


It began simple enough, Dirty Dan the Stunt Guru and head of Bod Buster Security was tisking at us over our single point of entry detection, Tia the dog. What we need is an additional force, he said. Something they won't suspect. There's lots of cool stealthy detection junk out there, go find some and get back to me. Well, when the head of security talks, you just plain listen and that's all there is to it. Mostly the Stunt Guru keeps to himself and only makes rare appearances for giving us sage advice. We immediately called a security meeting at the local police precinct which may not have been the best idea.

Known to the police, the BBB was given a meeting room that oddly enough, cost the same as recent parking tickets amassed by the Combat Monster. He's still working on that am, pm thing so "no parking" signs have become problematic. We were escorted to the meeting room which was solidly locked behind us, I'm sure the bars were there for our own safety, but you can never be too careful.

The meeting lasted awhile with many ideas proposed. TV cameras, GPS with flash-bulbs, micro-chips and a variety of alarm systems. We decided against the shotgun and string idea, this of course sent the room into a chaos of argument. The Buzz-Man was taking both sides at the same time. (It's a rare lawering guy who can do that!) and made a convincing argument for either one. Consensus at the Bod Busters is generally reached by the last man standing method so I decided to opt out of this particular mêlée and was reading a book called Mirror-Mirror. The book was boring, but not to the degree of the fracas going on a few feet away. Set in the middle ages of Tuscany, Mirror-Mirror made mention of using Geese as an alarm system since they will honk in unison at anything out of the ordinary.

More-o bright ideas-o

Book in hand I waded into the fray, ducked a chair and suggested that the Combat Monster put down the Rein Man, meanwhile Buzz ranted on, sighting several cases which one should and should not deploy the shotgun and string method. He was reaching a crescendo but was getting rather flush colored when I approached.

Hey guys, I said, I think I got something here, and showed them the book. Geese!? They all said in unison looking at me.yeah, they're cheap and make a lot of noise. I said. But they're geese! Yelled Steve-O, that's not high tech at all! Right I said, read this on my blackberry: I have personally witnessed what damage a goose can do with that bill, they can bite clear through a galvanized bucket. But these same geese are gentle as lambs when you feed them from your hand. They know exactly how hard they can bite. See, I said all we have to do is feed them and they're on our side.We immediately agreed to purchase a flock from Combat buddy Oleg Predurickski in Russia, Oleg will sell just about anything!

And a good Goose to You Sir!

To Goose: A verb, which means to grab someone between their butt cheeks and to squeeze, almost with an intent to hurt

Things happen fast in the world of poultry, no more than six days later, a very upset U.S. customs agent called wanting to know where we got the bright idea of buying geese from Russia. They're for security, I said. What kind of security are geese good for? He shouted into the phone. We began by telling how we had once been invaded by the Beavers and there was lots of secret stuff at stake here. He was a nice guy after all, and said, "That does it. I'm retiring!" The Bod Busters like to help customs agents whenever possible. We arranged to pick up the crate of geese at the airport on the condition that we never-ever buy geese from Russia again. We loaded the large crate into the bed of the short-buss and headed back to the lab feeling a little self conscious. Our load of passengers were all screeching and honking at passers-by along the way. They sound upset, said Jeff. No dude, just Russian, they speak loudly over there ya know and besides, we got 'em to make noise, remember?

Arriving back at the skunk works, the honking and screeching was louder than ever, we agreed it would be a good idea to let the geese out so we could all get acquainted. Show them around the place, don' want them to get scared. Yeah dude, we'll buy them lunch.

Carefully, we lifted the now deafening crate out of the truck and dragged it to the back end of the yard, allowing the gaggle of new residences to inspect their surroundings. Jeff threw the bolt- latch and the door of the crate flopped open. The Geese, who were now worked up into such froth that we began to feel the slightest tinge of angst, rushed out in what can only be described as a weather system, we sized each other up.

They look a little pissed off, I said, Yah, and that big one is looking at you, better watch it. The geese began to move forward head down and muttering honks as they came. Call the dog! She's a Border Collie, she'll know what to do! honkhonkhooooonk! Dude! Call the dog ... honk!.honk!.honk! OWW!! HEY, they bite! honk!...honk!....honk! get away! Oww! Jeff call the dog!!!! I did, she's not buying it, man!!!

As Tia the security hound watched from the window, we ran, both being pursued by a large bagpipe sort of bird that was honking, screeching and flapping its wings. Jeff went left and I went right, each knowing we could outsmart the onslaught. But these were no ordinary geese, they had been trained by Oleg, a master combat flyer in Russia and they appeared to have a plan. The Geese began to break into groups strategically blocking the exits while moving toward us. As we ran past each other in ever decreasing circles we would shout instructions to one another, run zigzag! no, you, no you, no way dude, it'll get me OWW! And so it went, we became acquainted with our new friend, the security system. By the time the fire department arrived and chased away the geese, we had been trapped on top of the storage shed for an hour. Apparently one of the neighbors saw what was going on and called the authorities. We were given a ticket for raising barnyard animals without a license.

What do you do with the drunken sailor (or geese)

So in-spite of all efforts, geese included, we were still invaded by the Beavers. I have sent in a for sale or trade ad to Flying Lines' Flying Flea Market, to rid ourselves of this latest endeavor. The editor for some unknown reason has opted not to print the ad! I suspect that there may be an ulterior motive. Such as leaving the Bod Busters with an unruly gaggle of ill tempered Russian honkers. We did however find a local chef who mostly took them off of our hands. I say mostly because one of the hell on wheels gang, flew into a tree and refused to come out. The goose is still there and only comes out to swoop down on us if we venture near it. We're hoping it will starve, but it's figured out the pet door and has been eating Tia's food, I think it has teeth.

Stay tuned to find out if Kenny-b and the Bod Busters can escape the webbed clutches of this revolting development.

-- Kenny-b and The Bod Busters

This page was upated Dec. 24, 2008

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