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February 09, 2012

MAN WALKS 500 MILES, TWICE - Feat sullied by drunken stupor and ensuing death, no clear motive other than just “to be”






Feat sullied by drunken stupor and ensuing death, no clear motive other than just “to be”



DENVER, CO –  Portia Craig had quite the surprise waiting for her on her doorstep – in the form of a falling-down intoxicated ex-co-worker who promptly died from exhaustion.


Charles Wendell, 36, worked with Craig at ProClaimCorp International Marketing four years ago in Houston, Texas. She thought she’d seen the last of him and had barely ever given him a second thought in the years following until he inexplicably arrived on her porch smelling strongly of whisky, collapsing, moaning, and finally passing out due to the pain in his knees.


“I thought it was a little bit odd. We weren’t ever really friends or anything, and I was confused why he’d driven all this way to see me,” Craig explains. However, having worked in the Human Resources department at ProClaimCorp, Craig has long been trained to give people the benefit of the doubt. “A nice gesture, sure, but then I was REALLY confused when he explained to me he hadn’t driven at all. He’d walked! All the way from Houston to Denver!”


Before his heart stopped, Wendell reportedly had briefly explained that he would “be the man to walk 500 miles, and then walk 500 more,” for no clear reason other than wanting to collapse on a doorstep. Craig fervently denies she and Wendell were ever romantically involved, and says that before he died he claims he was just doing it just to prove that he was a man of his word.


 “I’m not sure what he was trying to prove, but maybe he was really just trying to prove himself,” Craig reflects sadly. “Maybe he was seeking validation, just in general. Just to be recognized as the man who walked 1000 miles”.


A problem drinker most of his adult life, Wendell was clutching an empty bottle of Jack Daniels whiskey at the time of his death. An autopsy is expected later today, however, evidence very much suggests that he consumed much of the alcohol while walking. He died in a pool of his own vomit.


“It really did seem he was just doing it for the bragging rights,” Craig added, still confused. “He also mumbled a verse about getting drunk next to me, which I didn’t fully understand. If it was meant to be a romantic gesture it went very much askew. A little bit – twisted, if you don’t mind me saying. I’d always worried about Charles, I mean, it was my job. But this is just another level of bizarre thinking I don’t quite understand.”


Upon hearing the news of Wendell’s physical achievement turned sudden death, local curmudgeon Ernest Burtle, 89, was quick to point out where his logic was faulty.


“Why the hell would you walk that far just to impress a hussy? Get e-mail. You selfish twit, if you’re going to walk a thousand freakin’ miles, raise money for gout in Africa or baby seals or something. I hate people. People make me sick. Human spirit? I spit on your human spirit.”