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 But he does try hard, and we admire that.
“Got an idea, guys,” he said. He swept his necktie out of the way so
he wouldn’t accidentally butter it. “A contest.”
“Like the knife-sharpening contest you thought up, Del?”
“No, Doc. That didn’t pan out. See, what I’m thinking is, we should
play to our strengths here. You know, delve into our plusses, put
our minuses on a shelf somewhere, and show the world what we do
best!”
“Drink coffee?”
“Of course not, Steve! I mean, we need to hold a liar’s contest!”
Dead silence. All eyes on Delbert.
He looked around at all the solemn faces.
“You know what I mean …”
More solemnity.
“It could really draw crowds.”
Then Doc, our unofficial spokesman because he has more degrees than
a thermometer, spoke up.
“And just who would the liars be?”
“Well … you know, like Steve here. Remember Steve when you said you
once rode a bucking horse while sitting backwards on it? Things like
that.”
“I did that, Delbert,” Steve said.
“I saw him do that,” Dud said.
“Oh. Well, Dewey once told me he’d put a cow into the branches of a
tree. We could start off with something like that.”
“Three of us were there when Dewey did that,” Steve said. “Ran that
cow off a little bluff. We had to cut the tree down.”
[to top of second
column] |
Delbert sipped his coffee and ate a slice of
toast. He’d forgotten to put any jelly on it, too.
“Doc’s squirrel?” Delbert said.
Now Doc’s fictitious squirrel, Chipper, was a lie. But it was the
kind of lie that takes on a life of its own until … well …
“You talking about Chipper?” Dud asked.
“If that’s his name,” Delbert said.
“How is ol’ Chip, anyway, Doc?” asked Steve.
“Doing okay. Sleeps a lot these days. Hibernation, you know.”
Delbert left a tip and got up to go pay. They waited until he was
gone before laughing.
[Text from file received from
Slim Randles]
Brought to you by
“Sweetgrass Mornings” by Slim Randles. Available at UNMPress.com.
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