Scatology: My Contribution to that Field

By Don Caswell

Four short stories based on the scatological misadventures of otherwise normal folks. Some young hillbillies' adventure with an army surplus motor cycle runs afoul of Bessie the cow and ends in a dramatic and memorable fashion. A young post-WWII emigrant unleashes appropriate revenge on his workplace bullies. An over-bearing and snobby aunt lays the foundation for her own comeuppance. Some pompous feminist university staff go looking for evidence of the Yowie, the Australian Bigfoot, and get more evidence than they really hoped for.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Don Caswell
• Release date: Aug 13, 2014
• ISBN: 9781310119668

Don Caswell

I am now in a phase of my life where I can devote time to developing my writing ambitions. For more than thirty years I have been a regular freelance contributor to a range of Australian, and some international, outdoor magazines.My intention is to explore different genres of novel fiction. My goal is to develop a readership that appreciates my style and stories. Above all I seek to write in a simple concise manner while telling stories that are entertaining and have a strong ring of plausibility to them.Before entering this phase of my life I enjoyed a career with major, multi-national resource companies. That gave me the opportunity to travel and work in various interesting parts of the world. Best of all, I got to work closely with a great many people of different cultures and backgrounds.At home, gardening, landscaping, bird watching, wildlife photography, camping, hunting and cooking are special interests. Family and friends are, of course, paramount. Happily married with flown adult children, my wife and I enjoy travelling to other countries and meeting local folks.Wilderness areas in particular are a great attraction. I have spent half a lifetime living and seeking adventure in the remote jungles and bush of Papua New Guinea and Australia’s Arnhem Land.I have been formally adopted into aboriginal society, attended secret ceremonies, visited sacred sites, explored hidden valleys, and investigated lost aircraft.

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Scatology - My Contribution to that Field

Copyright 2014 Don Caswell

Published by Don Caswell at Smashwords

This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to real people and events is purely coincidental.

A proportion of the population find humour in scatological references. Unfortunately perhaps, I am one of them. If you are offended by such attempts at humour then you should exit this book right now. For the rest of you - enjoy.

Smashwords Edition License Notes

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Table of Contents

Chapter One - Parasite Horror

Chapter Two - Carlo's Revenge

Chapter Three - Pooper-Scooper

Chapter Four - Yowie Poo

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Chapter One - Parasite Horror

Great Aunt Maude used to visit us most years. She was Mum's aunty. Mum's mother had passed on long before and there was some sort of implied obligation to host Maude when she caught the train up to see us. I remember her visits from when I was not much more than a toddler. And, of course, her last visit which took place when I was a teenager is engraved indelibly in my memory, and the family's too.

We never got much pleasure out of her two week invasion of our otherwise harmonious domain. She was always a dour old thing, but in later years became a dreadful snob as well. Not that she was anything special, just plain working class folk like us. However, after her children went through university, with Kevin eventually becoming a professor, and her daughter Claire high in the Federal Public Service, well you would have thought she was the Queen Mother.

In her later years, once her children had reached what was in her eyes the stratosphere, she suddenly affected a sophisticated accent. In reality it was gratingly fake; an absolute parody of a real sophisticated voice. She was prone to putting her nose disdainfully in the air and say, Oh, yaiss, quite a lot. Dad used to say she was a character straight out of Dickens and occasionally in asides to Mum, which he thought we could not hear, would refer to her as Eliza, or Miss D. As a youngster I thought that was some sort of confirmation of her self-declared greatness and so my younger siblings and I held old Maude in awe for a long time.

Dad normally did not say much at all about Maude, or anyone for that matter, so when he expressed a rare opinion of somebody in our presence it seemed to have great authority. It was not until I was a bit more mature and in junior high school that I began reading Shaw and Dickens. When I did, suddenly the true import of my Dad's thoughts on Maude became clear to me. It was a bit of a shock, but meshed with a growing feeling of dislike for her that had been quietly dwelling within me for some years.

The starting point for what transpired began quite innocently enough. We were mercifully nearing the end of Maude's latest visit. The conversation around the dinner table was becoming more strained with each successive evening. Even us kids could feel it. Maude was utterly oblivious to such signs of social unease however. She was completely self absorbed, I reckon.

We had just finished our main meal when Mum, striving to maintain pleasant small talk, asked with a wan smile, I noticed you got a letter from Claire today. Anything interesting to report?

Well, yaiss as a matter of fact, I do. Claire has sent a photo of her friends in Canberra. They are all very important women, you know. All very highly qualified. From university.

Maude passed the photo to Mum. After some scrutiny, Mum passed the photo to me.

Pass that along to your father please. That is a nice outfit Claire is wearing. Very business like. They all have rather short, severe haircuts, don't they?

Oh, yaiss. It's all the latest fashion, you know. Amongst important and well qualified ladies like Claire and her friends, at least. The clothes are tailor made, naturally. Power suits they are, for women in positions of great authority, you know. Oh, yaiss.

I glanced at the photo. It looked like a group of women wrestlers, squeezed into men's business suits and on their