Bogboy and his mighty boggy entourage were following a little group of intrepid riders conquering the weathered out Scotty’s Ride. On the way, as there was time to spare, the bog standard Boggymobile took a detour past Bogboy’s uncle’s farm, just down the road from his cousin’s farm, around the corner from his grandfather’s farm, behind his nephew’s third cousin’s grandmother’s niece’s farm. Much to his delight, Bogboy’s nephews were out hooning in the front paddock. Well, they were hooning, until the Bogmonster grabbed hold of their hoonmobile by the axles and wouldn’t let go, as feral Bogmonsters are wont to do. Bogboy offered some words of ancient wisdom: “good on yas, lads”, amidst much laughter and merriment, and promptly drove off into the rainy distance, in the opposition direction from the intrepid Scotty’s Ride riders.
To get where he wanted to get to, and be where he once was, Bogboy needed to turn the Bogmobile around. Being a skilled bogger, and still enjoying the merriment of the memory of his nephews’ encounter with the Bogmonster, Bogboy replicated the family trait of getting bogged, promptly dropping the Bogmobile into a Bogmonster lair, on the soft shoulder of the road, quite securely and definitively achieving a state of bogment.
Fortunately the Local Slayer of Bogmonsters (ie the local constabulary) was driving by, in his large Bogslayingmobile, and was able to lasso the Bogmobile and drag it bare handed and by his very teeth, out of the bogmonster’s liar on the shoulder of the road. Bogboy, somewhat embarrassed, but truly forever grateful, thanked the Local Slayer of Bogmonsters, who, after some interrogative questioning, ascertained that indeed he had rescued a member of the Bogster family, much to his delight, as there was a bog of history between the Local Slayer of Bogmonsters and the Bogster family.
The moral of the story: don’t play in mud. Be nice to your loved ones, lest you get bogged down in shit.