I wish I could
remember this whole thing, but I can't, so I'll have to
paraphrase it. (note: this wasn't actually said to me, but rather to the person I was standing beside)
He was driving up to
Ontario somewhere; I think it was to
Barrie. Anyway, at some point, he
pulled over and got out for whatever reason, and went into the woods by the side of the roads.
He then proceeded to take his clothes off (I think he said something to the effect that "I came into the world naked, so I was gonna leave it naked") and climb into a tall tree, so he could jump out and
kill himself. But, as he was high on the tree,
Jesus came to him in a vision and told him that there was a
curse placed on him, and that he had to climb down and continue
living, because he had to
bear this curse. So he got down and
wandered in the woods for a while until a
hunter found him; the hunter
laughed at him, and then I think fed him and gave him some
clothes.
A bit after this he was
walking down the side of the highway when the
OPP (
Ontario Provincial Police) picked him up and took him to the
station. They then proceeded to shine a
laser beam onto the back of his head, reading all his
memories,
everything he said and did for all 30 years of his life up to that point. They then
implanted computer chips in him, one on each side of his
head,
between the ears and the skull (he said they were
still there, too) which allowed the police to know what he was
thinking at any given time.
Eventually, I don't remember how, he got back to
Prince Edward Island (now that I think of it, I think he said he hitchhiked, because he'd left his
car on the side of the road when he wanted to kill himself). He went to the hospital there (the
Queen Elizabeth Hospital) and asked to have
surgery to have the chips removed from his head, which they refused to do, for some corrupt/
supernatural reason.
This is where I lose memory of exactly how the story went, but somewhere it involved
mafia doctors and the elevator shaft of the hospital being a
gateway to hell (and this was said as a
matter-of-fact aside, not a
revelation). I'm sure I've forgotten a lot from the above parts, too; he was sort of like an odd,
insane stream-of-consciousness. Or, as the priest next to whom I was standing later said, "Oh, he's
nutty as a fruitcake."
Update: I have since been informed by one
Cletus the Foetus that said
urban outdoorsman may in fact be a man who goes by the name
Frizzel (though when I was
present he said he was
Robert). To quote
Mr. Foetus:
Legend has it that that dude ain't crazy -- it's all an act. F. is supposedly very well-read, and only goes to the Hillsborough Hospital (the local
mental ward --SB.)
on cold nights. The "crazy act" is precedent so they'll let him in; but my sources tell me that he's not crazy. Actually, he's got it made, since he doesn't have to pay taxes. Pretty sweet deal, really.