Originally written on the 15th June 2006, this is the definitive telling of the legend of the fabled beast that once roamed the farmlands of ancient Portugal.
“The Spandex Waffle Donkey”
The Spandex Waffle Donkey is an ancient myth. Historians have been able to trace its origins back to as far as 600BC, with the earliest references being attributed to unenlightened Europeans with little to no fashion sense and nothing else to do other than farm the land and converse about as-yet-uninvented plough technology. The legend’s genesis may lie in the early Portuguese tales of farmers battling the wild animals that would encroach upon their lands. The earliest known record of this alluring tale comes from the small coastal Portuguese settlement of Wafflê.
The story goes that one day a young shepherd was tending to his sheep’s vaginal cavities with his fleshy staff behind a bush, when suddenly, a large and nasally offensive beast of notably strange appearance attacked him. Before he could react, the shepherd was knocked unconscious but when he awoke several hours later, he found that his sheep had all been fitted with chastity belts and there was a shred of spandex stuck to his face.
Deeply confused, the shepherd took the spandex back to town and told everyone at the local public house about what had happened to him, all the while waving the strange material around like a madman as he related his unbelievable tale. Of course nobody in the establishment believed him, not even the local lunatic, Bartholomew Brainslate, who would later go on to invent modern spandex and make millions before losing it all in a drunken bet with a dead jellyfish. The townsfolk simply laughed the young shepherd out of the bar, with one version of the story even stating that he was bottled by Bartholomew on the way out, although this has never been verified.
Dejected, the embarrassed man went home to his cottage to tell his family about the incident. However, when he stepped into his home, he was presented with a horrific scene indeed. His family’s shredded remains were strewn all over the abode. The walls and ceiling were drenched in blood and in the middle of the hovel he found his wife’s intestines piled beside yet another shred of spandex. “The Beast!” he exclaimed aloud before evacuating both his bowels and tear ducts in sheer terror and woe.
Suddenly, an unholy, eardrum-shattering roar was heard just outside the house, shaking it’s very foundations. The shepherd ran outside to see what had made such a terrible noise. There, looming before him on the doorstep stood the beast. It was the very same horrible tormentor which had attacked him behind the bush earlier that day. Now that he was standing face to face with this horrific creature, the shepherd had plenty of opportunity to observe the foul demon in all it’s otherworldly glory. It was a ten foot tall donkey. It was standing upon it’s muscular hind legs and its red eyes burned with the intensity of a thousand hell fires. The beast’s grinning mouth was stretched grotesquely wide, revealing row upon row of blood and flesh stained teeth. To top off this grim vision, the donkey was clad head to toe in spandex, save for a few torn out patches.
As the frightened shepherd stood quivering with poop dribble running down his shaking legs, the great donkey spoke. “I have annihilated those you love and tarnished your reputation as a shepherd because you have betrayed the trust of your flock”. The shepherd broke down and wept. The donkey snarled and continued, “And now I shall go into town and tell all the other townsfolk that you fuck sheep”.
The broken shepherd screamed in terror. “No!” he wailed, “You cannot do that, for if you tell them that I take advantage of sheep, I shall never herd around these parts again!”
The great donkey did not care. He merely snarled again before announcing, “I am the great and powerful guardian of farm animal’s sexual rights!” In the next moment, he turned hoof, kicking up a cloud of dust into the man’s teary face before galloping off into the night.
The hours passed agonisingly slowly and the terrified shepherd dared not follow the great donkey into town, lest he should end up a pile of soggy remains on the floor like his tragic family had. The next morning, the man was awakened by the sound of an angry mob advancing towards his cottage. It was the villagers and they all had looks upon their faces which deeply suggested that they now knew full well what he did to sheep. The angry mob arrived and burned the shepherd’s cottage down to the ground, and subsequently beat the howling man almost to death with sticks and stones.
The shamed shepherd was forced to move on and leave his old life behind forever. Ever since that fateful day, any man or woman in Portugal who ploughs the sexual depths of his or her sheep’s love canals is said to be subjected to the almighty wrath of the Spandex Waffle Donkey.