Phish.net > Charts > Narration Chart: "Harpua", 1992-05-09

TREY: Far away from here, high up on a hill, up on a muddy hill, there lived an old man. This old man had a mangy little hound that he used to take around with him. Every day he’d walked around with this awful hound, and this hound was evil, had sweat dripping off and bubbles and grease. He looked down at his hound, and he raised up his foot to kick him. And he’d go [“Simpsons” signal”] “d’oh!” and kick him across the mud. The dog would tumble down the mud into the mud below. Then, he’d pick up his leg [“Simpsons” signal] “d’oh!” kick him again. And, he’d tumble back down the hill into the mud again.

Anyway, this is a typical thing that went on everyday. On this particular day, the dog was sick of getting kicked by his owner so decided to walk into town. This hill overlooked a beautiful suburban area with lots of houses that all looked exactly the same stretching off in every distance. Some of them were different colors; there was little blue ones, little green ones, little red ones, but every of them was an exact square with one door in the front and a little window. All the shrubberies were perfectly square. It was the square town. If you looked from down on the hill, you’d see the little square yards all perfectly trimmed and the little blocks. Everybody looked exactly the same.

So this dog, who didn’t look anything like any of the other dogs in that town, would walk through the town looking for a little fun because he didn’t like the square people. In one of these houses, far off on a corner on the side of a block behind the little blue in a little green house, there lived the typical young American boy. Here he was, sitting in his room, the typical young American boy, sitting in his room, listening to his stereo, listening to the typical young American rock song [Trey starts “Smells Like Teen Spirit” by Nirvana complete with mocking hey’s]. Watching his MTV video, doing what he did on every other day.

As he watched, he looked down to pet his typical little cat. There he looked down at his cat and said, “You’re such a beautiful kitty like all the other kitties on my block, like the kitty at the next house down, Whitey, and the little kitty Fluffy at the other little house. The only thing about you is… you’ve got such a strange name. I saw you the day you were born. I looked at you, and i said, “Kitty, you’re so beautiful, and you’re so wonderful and furry and small. I think i am going to name you… Poster Nutbag!

The boy’s life was very sad because all the other friends on the block made fun of him cause his cat was named Poster Nutbag. But, he didn’t care; he loved his cat more than anything. This one particular day, he said while i sit in here and listen to my MTV, i’m going to open the door and let you go out for a walk. Poster Nutbag stepped out, and he went past the shrub. He went past the uh typical American car in the driveway, and he walked out. He took a left and moseyed down the street.

When suddenly, he turned a corner, and he came face to face with… Harpua! Harpua looked at the little Poster Nutbag, and a big grin crossed his face. He walked all the way down from the muddy entrenched hillside above, and this is exactly what he was looking for. He looked into the eyes of Poster Nutbag, and he knew the time had come. He let out a low growl. Poster Nutbag coiled his body into a deadly arch. The fight was about to begin! Harpua let a hungry drop of saliva drop onto the ground.

Look, the storm’s gone…