“Sanctimonious siphons, it’s hot!” said Dud,
sitting at the philosophy counter and turning over his coffee cup
for action with a single smooth move. Dud is a regular at the Mule
Barn truck stop’s legendary world dilemma think tank.
“Epithet time again, Dudley?” said Doc.
“Epithets and heat time, Doc. When that heat comes along, the only
thing that can really change an attitude is a properly tuned
epithet. It’s man’s emotional release valve, but of course you know
that, being a doctor and all.”
Dud doctored his coffee and took a sip.
“Right?”
“Oh …” said Doc, “right … of course. We took Epithets 1A and 1B in
medical school, naturally. ‘Emotional release valves and their
perfection’ they were called. I got an A in Epithetology for the
Masses in my third year, too.”
“You’re just putting me on.”
“Maybe.”
“Let’s look for a moment,” chimed in Bert, “at why epithets are so
good for the soul.”
“He’s going to wave his arms again,” whispered Doc to Dud.
“I’m afraid so…” [to top of second
column] |
“Yes,” said Bert, “epithets,
particularly those where no swearing is involved, are like a
frustrated man’s crossword puzzle. They bring out enough cleverness
and creativity in a man to pour salve on whatever it is that’s
bugging the bejeesus out of him.”
“I know I feel better with salve
poured on my bejeesus,” said Doc, nodding.
“First thing I do in the morning, after coffee,” said Dud.
“Well, here comes Steve,” Doc said, as all eyes turned to the cowboy
who looked wise, in the way a caffeine-starved owl looks wise.
“He’ll pour some salve and sense on this entire situation.
“Mornin’ Steve,” said Dud. “What’s going on?”
“Bilious blasphemers, it’s hot today!” said Steve.
The groaning continued, off and on, through the toast course.
[Text from file received from
Slim Randles]
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