Citation Needed - The King of the Ferret Leggers

Episode Date: July 8, 2026

From: https://www.outsideonline.com/adventure-travel/essays/ferret-legging-outside-classic/

Hello and welcome to citation needed the podcast where we choose a subject, read a single article about it on Wikipedia and pretend we're experts because this is the internet and that's how it works now. I'm Noah. I'm going to be leading the way and questioning the value of the human experiment this week and joining me and that doubt are going to be four men on the brink of start in a fucked up new form of Briss. Cecil Eli Heath and Ta. Great. Now I looked up Briss and I'm wondering what a brisk kit is supposed to be. You smoke it low and slow. exactly exactly and fucked up new form is just

my form yeah it's not like the old form is good great for a sater ladies gentlemen and sophisticated non-bineries it's often been said that the five of us are the ferrets

and the leggings of power and you rubbed non-binary we're not talking to you right now no we're doing nor the non-gentle men yeah right and if you'd like to you help keep us biting. Be sure to stick around

to the end of the show. With that out of the way, tell us Eli, what person, plays, thing, concept, phenomenon, or event are we going to be talking about today? We'll be talking about the king of the ferret leggers. And Tom, what the fuck, man? It's

impossible to quantify exactly what makes people happy. For some, it's bedriding and doom scrolling, while others perform more bodily and adventurous pursuits. I, for one, am not at all immune to mixing some amount of discomfort into my hobbies and interests,

often seeking out and embracing a certain amount of suck in order to feel some sense of accomplishment. And while I know we shouldn't yuck someone's yum, if you're yum involves weasels, viciously marauding about in your pants and mutilating your Johnson for the entertaining of,

well, as you'll soon learn, pretty much no one, actually. And maybe what you need is less hobbies and much, much more therapy. Which brings us to today's absolute gem of an article. This is the king of ferret leaguers from my very favorite source

of insane shit outside magazine. This one's written by Donald Cass. This is a really good magazine. I fucking love this. I have a subscription now that I pay for and I love it. Yeah. How did we ever think democracy

wouldn't turn out like this? Terrible ideas. Yeah, man. I'm reading Thomas Hobbs along with Outside Magazine. I love him. He's the move. He's a tiger. Mr. Regmeller, the king of fair-legging,

paced across his tiny Yorkshire Miners' Conage as he explained the rules of the English sport that he has come to dominate rather late in his life. I led, said the 72-year-old champion. No jock straps allowed. No underpants. Nothing whatever. And it's no good with tight trousers, mind ye.

Little bastards have to be able to move around inside there from ankle to ankle. Okay, I know the writer is there at this moment, but it sounds like an old guy talking to nobody, right? Some 11 years ago, I first heard of the strange pastime called ferret lagging. And for a decade since then, I have sought a publication possessed of sufficient intelligence and vision to a allow me to travel to northern England in search of the fabled players of the game. Surely there must be a squirrel near your dick quarterly

where I can find the information I see. Damn it, I've been misled again. Who cares of what golfers digest? Jesus. Fuck. Basically, the contest involves the tying of a competitor's trousers at the ankles and the subsequent insertion

into those trousers of a couple of peculiarly vicious fur-coated foot-long carnivores called ferrets. This is real. Tom's not making this up. This is a real... I had to check.

I read through the whole thing being like Tom's been fooled by an onion article here or something. Never again. The brave contestant's belt is then pulled tight and he proceeds to stand there in front of the judges as long as he can. While animals with claws like hypodermic needles and teeth like number 16 carp attacks

try their damnedest to get out. Okay, I feel like there was an early phase for the sport when they must have been workshopping different animals. I want to see how they land on parrot. All right. Gentlemen, I think we can all agree, bears was a terrible idea. But if we didn't start big, we would never know we had gone too far. I want to see this after AI takes over. It's just two Boston Dynamics robots with circular saws down their pants jumping around.

From a dark and obscure past, the sport has made an astonishing comeback in the past 15 years. When I first heard about ferret-legging, the world record stood at 40 painful seconds of keeping them down, as they say in ferret-legging circles. A few years later, the dreaded one-minute mark was finally surpassed. The current record, implausible, as it may seem, now stands at an awesome. five hours and 26 minutes. What?

A mark reached last year. A mark reached last year. He's like the Roger Bannister, but then he, the multiplier is so crazy. So much. It's such a, like it's such an end of a hockey stick. This line is crazy.

A mark reached last year by the godily tattooed 72 year old little Yorkshireman with a waxed military mustache who now stood two feet away from me in the middle of the room, apparently undoing his trousers. I'm a human writer, not a ferret, I said to him. Can you hear and see me? The key here, my boy, is that my blood is 40% drama me. You're not right?

You hear after five hours, they got it falls a week. Once the ferrets chew your junk all the way off, you can basically just go however long you want to, I guess. I'm going to answer my question. Can you hear and see me? No. The ferrets must have a mouthful of teeth, Regmeller said as he fiddled with his belt.

No filing of the teeth. No clipping. No dope for you or the ferrets. You must be sober. And the ferrets must be hungry. No, any ferret will eat your eyes out, even if he isn't hungry. Yeah, so this guy, Bill, Billichick or something like,

You showed up for an event, and he had a ferret with dentures, nodding out from all the heroin. His girlfriend was like 15 max. It was really weird. We had to make some new rules for the game. Back to football, he went. Regmeller lives several hours north of London atop the thick central seam of British coal

that once fueled the most powerful surge into modernity in the world's history. He lives in the city of Barnsley, home to a quarter million downtrodden soul. I'm sure at least a couple of them are doing. All of them are out. There's some uptrodden ones there somewhere. We all have names and time we do.

Every one of them is a fucking chimney sleep or whatever. And the brunt of many derisive jokes in Great Britain, Barnsley was the subject of much national mirth recently when, quote, the most grievously mocked town in Yorkshire. place, people drive miles out of their way to circumvent, open a tourist information center. Everyone thought that was a good one. Okay,

that's pretty funny. When I stopped at the tourist's office and asked the astonished woman for a map, she said, Oh, I'm obscene. It's a love. No, I'm up here, no. She did, however, know the way to Reg Meller's house. Reg is, after all,

Barnsley's only reigning king. It's so dope that the British still get to make fun of their poor, because they're all white? Like imagine imagine trying to write that paragraph about a black woman and the way she talks in Mississippi. It would not sing.

Real victims are comedians who can't make the jokes about Mississippi. I would have good kids. I miss it. I'm saying it's a good thing. I'm proud of them. Jesus Christ. Finally then, after 11 long

years, I sat in front of a real ferret leger. A man. among men. Is that what makes... Okay, I just want to point out, the people that measure manhood by ferret dick bite tolerance are also the same ones

that tell us gender as an immutable biological characteristic. I just want to point that out. He stood now next to a glowing fire of Yorkshire coal as I tried to interpret the primitive record of his life, which is etched in tattoos

up and down his thick arms. No, those are bite marks, actually. Redd finally finished explaining... You shouldn't run for office. He covered it with ferrets scars? That's crazy. Made character nice. Reg. Reg finally finished explaining the technicalities of this burgeoning sport.

So then, lad, any more questions for I put a few down for you? Yes, Reg. I would then. Well, Reg, I said, I think people in America will want to know. Well, since you don't wear any protection and, well, I've heard a or can bite your thumb off. Do they ever, you know, Reg's stiff mustache arched toward the ceiling above a sly grin. Oh, you really want to know what they get up to down there, eh?

Reg said, looking for all the world like some working man's long John Silver. Mangled penis, yes, that's the whole reason I'm here. Show me your mangled penis right now. Well, take a good look. Then Reg Meller let his trousers fall around his ankles. to the reporter all twisted up like the victims in the ring. A short digression. That's actually what I call him.

A lot of people think it's a good size digression, actually. He has been heard. A word is in order concerning ferrets. Weasel like animals, well known to Europeans, but because of the near extinction of the black-footed variety in the American West, not widely known in the United States. Wow. Really?

This is goth girl and loveless weirdo erasure, right? Jesus Christ. Alternatively referred to by professional ferret handlers as a shark of the land, a piranha with feet, fur-coated evil, and the only four-legged creature in existence that kills just for kicks. Oh, my cats do that. The common domesticated ferret, mustula putorious, has the spinal flexibility of a snake and the jaw musculature of a pitball.

Sorry, I'm picturing a ferret as Oscar Pitorious, the blade runner likes. He's so fast. That's not fair. And he also killed for fun. And he kills for fun. Yeah. You're right with me. Rabbits, rats, and even frogs run screaming from hiding places when confronted with a ferret.

I don't think frogs. Grim. Ferretters, those who hunt with ferrets as opposed to putting them in their pants, sit around and tell tales of rabbits running toward the hunters to surrender after gazing into the torch-red eyes of an oncoming ferret. I saw a turtle shoot his family and then himself in the sight. A mere sight of the ferret. It's like the end of the mist.

It's just a gun in the public instead. Shooting. Before they were outlawed in New York State in the early part of the century, ferrets were used to exterminate rats. A ferret with a string on its leg, it was said, could knock off more than 100

street-wise New York City rats twice its size in an evening. I feel like a ferret without a string on its foot could knock off even more. The thing that sucked is, if the ferret got loose, you had to get a septogenarian with baggy pants on a string to retrieve to them.

It was a whole thing. In England, the amazing rise of ferret lagging pales Before the new popularity of keeping ferrets as pets, A trend replete with numerous tragic consequences. A baby was killed and eaten in 1978, and several children have been mauled by ferrets every year since then. Okay, hot tank, why are you bringing your kid into the house of someone who owns a ferret? There is nothing for children in a ferret house.

Right. Exactly. Is the kid buying drugs? Come on. I went to the Orgy Dome and I didn't have any fucking stuffed animals from my Get there. This next line is my favorite of this whole article, maybe. I don't know.

Loyal to nothing that lives. Fucking settled down. Settled down, dude. What? What do you know what animals are loyal to? How would you know what animals are loyal? well to the mind flay what's hatredism

have you seen from from pigs the ferret has only one characteristic that might be deemed positive a tenacious single-minded belief in finishing whatever it starts that usually entails biting off whatever it bites the rules

of ferret-legging do allow the legger to try to knock the ferret off a spot it's biting from outside the trousers only. But that is no small matter, as ferrets never let go. No less a source than the Encyclopedia Britannica suggests that you can get a ferret to let go by pressing a certain spot over its eye, but Reg Meller.

The other ferret specialists I talk to all say, that is absurd. Reg favors a large screwdriver to get a ferret off his finger. another ferret leger told me that a ferret that it almost dislodged his left thumb let go only after the ferret and the man's thumb were held under scalding tap water for ten minutes. Okay, clearly thumb is penis in that. Some idiot had a ferret flinched on his dick and he was like, hey, hey, does anyone have a sink with pretty good hot water? So like any sympathy I possibly could have mustered for these assholes And it's very very little just evaporated.

Okay. Like but at least look I think they should be the role in every form of fucking recreational animal torture. You at least have to give the animal a fighting chance to bite your day. If Michael Vickett had to put those dogs down his pants for five hours first, I'd be like, all right, Mike. Yeah. You earned this one. Mr. Graham Wellstead, the head of the British ferret and ferreting society, says that little is known of the diseases carried by the ferret because veterinarians are afraid to touch them.

It's an insanely crazy lie. Redmeller, a man who has been more intimate with ferrets than many men have been with their wives. What? Calls ferrets cannibals. Things that live only to kill. That'll eat your eyes to get at your brain. at their worst and untrustworthy

at their very best untrustworthy they wouldn't want alone of money guys the ferret just drove away and then texted me that he doesn't have Venmo

but he'll get me later ginky face also cannibals do they eat themselves in there do the ferrets eat each other in the pants does he consider himself a ferret

does he think his dick is a ferret Reg says he observed with wonder the growing popularity of ferret-legging throughout the 1970s. He had been hunting with ferrets in the verdant moors and dales outside of Barnsley for much of a century. Because a cold and wet ferret exterminates with a little less enthusiasm than a dry one. Reg used to keep his ferrets in his pants for hours when he hunted in the rain. And it always rained where he hunted. And what's the only warm and dry place that exists?

Crotch, exactly. Yes, right. So to be clear, this was a, I want a ferret to bite off my dick pervert, who discovered accidentally that there was an international sport about his gink. Can I say, good for him. Hunting and ferret legging. The world record was 60 seconds. 60 seconds.

I can stick a ferret. me ass for longer than that. Well, I believe you don't show me. So, two in the pink, one in the mink. Fantastic. Nicely done. Where's that t-shirt? Oh, my God.

So at 69, Reg Meller found his game. As he stood in front of me now, naked from the waist down, Reg looked every bit a champion. Oh, so that isn't a ferret tail butt plumber. Okay. All right. All right. Well, we all need a minute to look at the illustrations.

So we're going to take a quick break for a little apropos of nothing. You don't feel weird eating a mouse. No, why would I feel weird eating a mouse? I don't know. I feel like it's a rodent to rodent. Don't let yourself get caught up in that nonsense. Not this again. Seriously.

I'm just saying. I'm just saying. Hey, fellas. Oh, hey, Rick. How was it out there? Yeah. Did he send you hunting? Yeah, you get to kill anything?

No. No, they didn't. Okay. Did you get to play with the toys? Maybe. I mean, not the toys. He, um, he put me up his pants. He put you up his pants?

Yep. I mean, down his pants, I guess is down. Why? I don't know. Just put me down there. I bit or I bit around for a bit and then he just let me go. Okay. Was it like an accident?

Did he like accidentally put in his hands? No, it definitely was not an accident. He like definitely put me down there on purpose. So you, you okay? Yeah. Why wouldn't, why wouldn't I not be okay? I mean, I'm the one who bid him, right? Like, I bid him so much.

Yeah, of course. Yeah, totally. You got him. Hey, do you think it's weird for us to kill a mouse? I was changing the subject. And see, the thing that most people don't know is you don't have to pay your taxes if they don't know what you change your name to. Hey, podcast listener.

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The Everyday Airbud Classics are a great option for everyday listening. Go to buy Raycon.com slash citation to get 20% off. Thanks to Raycon for sponsoring. So, what do you do? Wish I was dead. Right, totally. So here's my take on the Special Olympics, okay? I think maybe I died on the drive over and this is hell?

Now that will do for a nickel. No, that will do you for a nickel. Okay. But how does that make it? more sense. It just does. It just does. Listen. Hey, guys. What's going on? I'm trying to teach he to be the cashier for my new business, but he is

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Shopify handles the rest. Start your free title at Shopify.com slash citation. That's Shopify. com slash citation. All right, Noah, thanks. Sorry, Heath, looks like you're out of a job. But what about Timmy's milk leg? Who's Timmy? Oh, sorry. I don't know. I got into the old timey thing. I got all. Sure. Yeah. It happens. And we're back. when we last left off, the writer was really edginess on the bloody penis stump top. Where are we going on? So look close, he said again. I did look at an incredible tattoo of a zafting woman on Reg's thigh.

His legs appeared crosshatched with scars, but I refused to look close, saying something about not being paid enough for that. Come on, Reg, I said. Do they bite your, you know? Do they? He thundered with irritation as he. pulled up his pants. Why I had him hanging off me. My penis is irresistible. How dare you even ask that? Oh, yeah, big razor mouse? Yeah, bites my dick. That's the point. Reg stopped short because a woman who was with me, a London television reporter, had entered the cottage. I suddenly feared that I would never know from what the raging ferrets dangle.

I think we know. Reg offered my friend a chair with the considerable gallantry of a man who had served in the Queen's Army for more than 20 years. And then he said to her, Are you cheeky love? My friend looked confused. Say yes. I hissed. Yes.

Why, Reg roared again. I had him hanging from me tool for hours and hours and hours. Two at a time, one on each side. I haven't swelled up big as that. Reg's pointed to a five-pound can of instant coffee. You don't get to enjoy the eye contact because, you know, your pants are closed, but it's still pretty cool. The best part of waking up is ferrets on your nuts.

I then made the mistake of asking Reg Mellar if his age allowed him the impunity to be the most daring ferret leger in the world. What do you mean by that? He said. Well, I just, I thought since you probably aren't going to have any more children, Are you saying I ain't poking him no more? Reg growled with menace. Is that your meaning? Because I am poking them for sure.

Humans? I'd like him to add humans at the end of this. Does he say humans? Bye, Reg. Eli Bostnik, you got to choose between getting offended and showing people the ferret scars on your balls, man. Those are the choices. You get the vibes all wrong. A small red hut.

sits in an overgrown yard outside Reg Mellor's door. Come out of there, you bastards. Listener, I cannot even begin to explain the amateurish bullshit this writer has done in his effort to spell this man's accent phonetically. And yet still, I'm nailing it. That's the part I think we should be impressed by it. You're a crush.

Reg yelled as he flailed around the inside of the hut looking for some ferrets that had just arrived a few hours later. He emerged with two dirty white animals, which he held quite firmly by their necks. They both had fearsome, unblinking eyes as hard and red as rubies. Like, look, they'll fire parents will fuck your shit up and all.

I agree, but ferrets are about as fearsome looking as Winnie the Pooh. They're adorable. I love for it. They're so cute. Reg thrust one of them at me, and I suddenly thought

that he intended the ferret to avenge my faux pa concerning his virility. So I began to run. run for a fence behind which my television friend was already standing because she refused to watch. I like her. There's an untold, unwritten article where she was like, nope. Reg. Reg finally got me to take one of the ferrets by its steel cable of a neck while he tied his pants at the ankle and prepared to put him down.

Steel cable, the ferret blushes. Thanks for noticing my neck. I've been working on it really hard. lately, neck curls, neck twist, weighted whiplash, the whole thing. A young man named Malcolm with a punk haircut came into the yard on a motorbike. You put him down again, Reg. Malcolm asked. Regt took the ferret from my bloodless hand and stuck the beast's head deep into his mouth.

Oh, yuck, Red, said Malcolm. Then the parrot said, are you saying I ain't poking him? Because I'm poking him for sure. Just so everybody knows. Yeah, nothing's going to convince him. the reporters of your sexual prowess quite like deep throat and a weasel, man. Keep going with this. Reg pulled it out quite embittered-looking ferret out of his mouth and stuffed it and another

ferret into his pants. He cinched his belt tight, clenched his fists at his side and gazed up into the gray Yorkshire firmament in what I guess could only be a gesture of prayer. Claws and teeth now protruded all over Reg's hyperactive trousers. The two bulges circled. round and round one leg, getting higher and higher and finally. They went up and over to the other leg. Oh, thank God, I said.

Yuck, Reg, said Malcolm. The claws I managed. Aren't they sharp, Reg? Aye, said Reg laconically. Aye. Podcast listener, I once attended a sex show in Berlin where a woman pegged a man with the unbroken side of a shattered beer bottle, and the speed with which I would nope out of this moment is unmatched by that of light itself.

Jesus Christ. Reg Meller gives all the money he makes from ferret-legging to the local children's home. As with all great champions, he has also tried to bring more visibility to the sport that has made him famous. One Meller innovation is the introduction of white trousers and major competitions. Jesus Christ. Shows the blood better. Hey, Rich. Hey, how's it? Man? Orphan child here.

We don't want this money. We're actually good. Meller is a proud, man. No, no, he's not. He puts weasels down his pants, guys. Last year, this, I love this paragraph so much. Last year, he retired for a professional. ferret lagging and disgust after attempting to break a magic six-hour mark the four-minute mile of ferret lagging after five hours of having him down

Miller found that almost all of the 2,500 spectators had gone home then workman came and began to dismantle the stage despite his protestations that he was on his way to a new record I'm not packing it in because I'm too old or because I can't take the bites anymore Reg told reporters after the event, I'm just too disillusioned. I was in it for the love of the game and that's it. He expected people to watch him for six hours.

For six hours? I fucking love that they're taking apart the stage around him while he still got fucking pointless ferrets in his pants that no one cares about it. It's so fucking great. Fuck you idiot. One of the ferrets in Reg's pants

finally poked its nose into daylight before any major damage was done and Reg pulled the other ferret out. We all went across the road to the local pub where everyone but Reg had a drink to calm the nerves. Reg doesn't drink. Bad for his health, he said. He should drink.

Bad for his health. Then he tamped a lump of Yorkshire coal into a pipe and took a long drink. and told me all about his dick rabies. Drinking is bad for you. Reg said he had been coaxed out of retirement recently and he tends to break six, maybe even eight hours within the year. Nobody cares, Reg, you're the worst thing about this town.

You're the worst thing about this town. Some very big Yorkshiremen stood around us in the pub. Some of them claimed they had bitten the heads off sparrows. shrews and even rats, but none of them would compete with Reg Mellar. Why would they claim that? What fucking conversation were you having where somebody was like, I'm gonna what up?

One can only wonder what suffering might have been avoided if the Argentine junta had been informed that sportsmen in England put down their pants animals that are known only for their astonishingly powerful pites and their penchant for insinuating themselves in the small dark holes.

Perhaps the generals, have reconsidered their actions on the Falklands. If I had a time machine, I'd go back and show Adolf Hitler the ferrets clenched on my penis and balls. Such a random change the course of history. But Reg Meller refuses to acknowledge that his talent is made of the stuff of heroes, of a mixture of indomitable pride, courage, concentration, and artless grace. No, none of that, said the king. King, you just got to be able to have your tool bitten and not care.

Jesus Christ. That is the secret to a happy life, I guess. Man, if you had to summarize what you learned in one sentence, what would it be? I used to think that there was nothing worse than being bored, but there are definitely worse things than being bored. Yep, sure. There are worse things than almost everything. Everything but this, I guess, yeah.

And are you ready for the quiz? Indeed. All right, Tom. what's the best song to jam out to when you're ferret-legging? Is it A, hot to gopher? Good one? B, another one bites the musk.

Or C, rat funny feeling. Oh, I like another one bites the musk. That's good. Fantastic, that's a pretty good one. Yes. Okay. All right, Tom, what's the proper name for, ferret pants. A. Scargo pants. B. Cutoffs. C. Gorderoys or D. Bleederhosen.

Oh, guys, got to be bleederhosen. That's great. Correct. All right. Tom, one more for you. So, ferret legging is just so very clearly a sex thing. This is a kink. Which of the following is the worst porn about small animals inside of your pants? Worst. A, the red badger of courage. B, lop goes the weasel. C. Oh, Kiwi, Ermin. D.

Oh, that's good. Minky and the Brain. Or E. Two squirrels one cup. Of course. All right, I've seen them all except for two squirrels one cup. I won't subject myself to it. That's got to be the worst one.

You are correct. Ah, yes. All right. Well, I guess that means that our winner this week is Eli. Hooray. I want a Cecil essay next week. Don't we all? All right.

Well, for Cecil, he's Tom and Eli. I'm Noah. Thank you for hanging out with us today. We're going to next week, and by then, Cecil will be an expert on something else between now and then listen to dear old dads,

then the No Rogan experience, then cognitive dissonance, then got off movies, than the skeptic crap, followed by the scathing atheist in that order. And if you'd like to help keep this show going, you can make a per episode donation at patreon.com slash citation pod or leave a five-star review everywhere you can.

And if you'd like to get in touch with us, check out past episodes. with some social media or check the show notes. Be sure to check out citationpod.com. Hey, Rick, we're all going to run around our area in a super fast circle. Do you want to join in? Yeah. Yeah, I'll be there in a minute.

I'm totally going to catch Larry this time. He thinks he's fast. I said I'd be there in a minute. Okay, no, okay. Sorry. Yeah. I'm sorry. I'm sorry.

No, man, I totally understand. You told us before. I'm sorry. No, it's totally fine.