McVanBuck is a collection of hilarious adventures written by Peter N. Mast. Peter N. Mast shares a range of joyful fun-filled adventure humor stories, packed with a rare blend of pure genius. From growing up on a Canadian farm where money was the goal, but never the prize for Elvis McVanBuck, to the rank smelling neighbour, Mr. Brown, who pops in with his stubborn farmer personality, to coming face to face with Sasquatch, these adventures have been known to make people burst out with laughter and even to tears. Filled with rich colourful characters, starting with coming face to face with Sasquatch in Chapter 1. Sasquatch Chills, 2. Fire Fools, 3. Fuel Tank Fire, 4. Ketchup Graffiti, 5. Thistle Attack, 6. Rat Invaders, 7. Smoking Toothpicks, 8. Work Boots, 9. Call Of The Lighter, and lastly 10. Hole to the Underworld… these stories will surely entertain the whole family, from the grandparents, teen boys and girls, to recovering loved ones in the hospital who are in need of a smile and a laugh. …Sample #1… As Mr. Brown knocked on our front door, the smell from outside came wafting in through the open window, hitting my nose, making my knees wobble. Joy, hesitating, sucked in some air and began to hold her breath before letting the rank old farmer and his fog of death into the house. The door was hardly open, before Mr. Brown’s foot appeared in the crack of the door, just in case Joy was going to change her mind about letting him in. As he took a seat at our table and I poured him some coffee, I said, You’ve been skinning some skunks again, I see. And I thought to myself, It must have been a ripe rotten skunk; the stink’s so rank that it could peal the paint off the walls and a layer of flesh off of my eyeballs. He replied, No, just that dandy-sized skunk last month. Why do you ask? …Sample #2 … This is when I found the badger hole with both of my feet, as I landed in it. I had not been able see the badger hole with my eyes, due to the height of the thistles obstructing my view. This is when panic bolted past fear, as my memory kicked in, for it was reminding me that there was a large grey paper wasp nest in the hole that I was now standing in. The wasp nest was now a deflated basketball under my feet, and my trousers were still hanging at my ankles. My boots were stuck in the badger hole like wet concrete. Wasps, it seems, do not like having the gates of their city kicked in. It was apparent that this hive of wasps were also easily provoked when I started swatting at them with my full toilet-paper roll while stomping up and down on their nest, as I tried to free my feet from the grip of the badger hole. Using the toilet-paper roll in my hand like a medieval war mace was some quick thinking, but did little good in beating the attackers off. This wild whacking at the ticks and wasps with my homemade soft mace was like the soft blows of a pillow and only seemed to provoke them more, like poking at a mean dog who had rabies with a stick. The ticks that had climbed aboard the inside my clothing, also seemed to be as terrified of the wasps as I was, for the ticks were starting to climb up my legs for the safety of higher grounds. But those higher grounds were way-off limits for them, in my mind! My mind was numb with fear, but not blind to madness! As the wasps zoomed around with rage, my legs were easy targets for them to sting, and with the invading army of ticks from beneath, this gave me the needed incentive…
