The Tasmanian Devil: Chapter 9

Disclaimer 1: Looney Tunes, the characters, their names, and their likenesses are owned by Warner Brothers and this indicates no claim upon their intellectual property.

Disclaimer 2: I know next to nothing about Tasmania or how actual research facilities work.
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The book was the anthropological equivalent of a train wreck. All night long, Dr. Pehg wanted to look away, but couldn't.

"A the-ah a the-ah a the-ah The American Indians have long known the rabbit to be the symbol of calm, quick witted trickster that turns your foolishness against you.

"A he-ah a he-ah a he-ah He's insulted and oversimplified every culture he can imagine. How could he possibly justify any of these a ke-ah a ke-ah a ke-ah conclusions?"

"Flip to the back, doc. There's a bit about what he calls 'noetic science'."

Dr. Pehg looked to the back of the tomb and, indeed there it was. Noetic science, so said the book, was the use of intuition as a method of knowledge equal to what the book called "observational science".

Dr. Pehg couldn't even stutter at that. She couldn't imagine the first word that would be used to describe that.
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Elmer Fudd spent the night in his office, in communion with the spirit. This was the being that he had theorized to find here, the one based on his noetic scientific understanding of the tasmanian devils. He'd expected hunger and anger. He hadn't expected wisdom.

"Respect ah pbthth!" It was... simple wisdom. "Awoohol!" In some ways, it was a wisdom so simple that humans couldn't understand it. Rather, as in keeping with Mr. Fudd's greater theory, it was that the sane couldn't understand it.
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Dr. Pehg finally shut the book, a dazed look on her face only partly due to the lack of sleep. That someone in the world actually believed this was one thing. That he had written a book was another. That, appearantly, other people had purchased that book, read it, and, seemingly, believed it enough to write a forward for a new eddition...

She reminded herself that there was a reason she had read this book. It wasn't to arouse anger or pity for Mr. Fudd, it was to be able to deal with him. Whatever else the book may have done to Dr. Pehg's remaining faith in humanity, it did give her some clue about the mind of Mr. Fudd.

"A he-ah a he-ah a he-ah have you read this, Dr. Bunnet? All the way through?"

"I read a few bits," said Dr. Bunnet, absent minded as he checked over his notes to compare seasonal insect behaviors. "Once I looked at that no-eat-ick science part, I wasn't going to read no more. Besides, I been on the receiving end of enough of Mr. Fudds philow-sow-fee."

"I fe-ah i fe-ah i fe-ah If you don't mind, I'm going to ask Mr. Fudd something and I may need a we-ah a we-ah a we-ah a witness."
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Elmer Fudd strode confidently from his office, his deerhunter jacket and cap done neatly and ready for purpose. There was something he needed to check.

Truths were opening up. Ah ee awoo! Truths that words were clumsy things.

In his thoughtful reverie, he walked right into Dr.s Pehg mmm porky and Bunnet rrr rabbit. "Pawdon me, Dr.s"

"A ne-ah a ne-ah a ne-ah No, pardon me, Mr. Fudd. I have a ke-ah a ke-ah a ke-ah a question about your research."

Mr. Fudd stepped around the plump Dr. Pehg and continued his path. "Fowwow and ask, Dr."

"I re-ah i re-ah i re-ah I read your book."

"That thing?"

The tender Dr. Bunnety visibly startled at the quick dismissal of Fudd's book.

"A we-ah a we-ah a we-ah what research are you doing here? What is your a the-ah a the-ah a the-ah theory?"

Elmer went too his foot locker and yanked off the lock. He pulled out clothing and items and keepsakes with regard neither for items or the area around him.

"A me-ah a me-ah a me-ah Mr. Fudd? What is your theory regarding Tasmania?"

Elmer pulled out a notebook and tossed it to shut up little pig satisfy her while he continued his search. She continued to speak, but that didn't matter. Dr. Bunnet knelt down and spoke, but that didn't matter, either.

Mr. Fudd found something that... did it matter? The book was Atlas Shrugged. The pages were warped from repeated, thorough rereadings. This was once a font of wisdom, but this time, flipping through the pages he found...

In a fit of anger, he ripped the book in two. "Too many wowds" was the only explanation he felt necessary.

Still, there was one way he knew of value, one way to live his truest life.
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Mr. Fudd had been ignoring Dr. Pehg's questions and Dr. Bunnet's entreaties. Then, as though he were lost in another world, he stood and left the lodging.

Dr.s Pehg and Bunnet shared a worried look, then rushed to follow.

Dr. Bunnet called out, "Hey, Elmer. Where ya going?"

Mr. Fudd paused long enough to turn and look at Dr. Bunnet. "Be vewy vewy quiet. I'm hunting."

"Eh... Whatcha hunting?"

Mr. Fudd answered with only his stuttered, slightly raspy laugh, then turned back to his trek into the wilderness.