
âPal. Pal, look at these two jist walked in. Jeez. They ainât from these parts, gare-un-teed. Shhh, shhâŠ. Howdy, fellas, welcome ta the Saddle Up Saloon. Where ya all from?â
âHow do you do. My name is Logan and this reprobate is Morgan. Despite appearances he is house-trained. Do you think this the right place, Morgan? It looks less sophisticated than we were led to believe.â
âShush, Logan. They seem nice people. Try not to upset them, okay.â
âYes, butâŠâ
âBehave.â
âAll right!â
âWeâre from the UK. First time in the US of A.â
âWell, welcome ta Carrot Ranch.â
âCarrotâŠ?â
âRanch.â
âRaunch?â
âRanch, Logan. Itâs their accents.â
âNot exactly the Queenâs English.â
âLoganâŠâ
âYes, alright. Ranch. Like the dressing?â
âWhut? No, ranch, as in⊠ranch. Ya know, where food gits raised.â
âWeâve not been to a carrot ranch before. Is that because you genetically modify your vegetables? Ours tend to stay out until picked but if you can ranch carrots I suppose that cuts down on man power? Do they need herding?â
âNot that Iâve heard tell of. Reckon if ya leave yer carrots out they git pasture-ized?â
âShush, Kid. Fellas, yer at Carrot Ranch. Ranch. Ya know, cattle; hosses anâ sech. We even have a rodeo in the fall. Dâya all ride?
âHeâs not serious is he? No, I donât ride, other than buses, and thatâs only when there arenât taxis.â
âLogan shush. Did you say you have a rodeo? Thatâs super exciting. Iâve seen them in films. Movies. There was this girl with a lasso and⊠no, wait that was a cartoon. But weâd love to see one. Weâre really very keen to experience every new cultural experience. Especially food. I heardâŠâ
âMorgan, for goodness sake. Can you stop thinking about your stomachâŠ?â
âIâm always hungry too. Tell ya what, the grubâs real good arounâ here.â
âGrubs? You eat⊠grubs? Morgan did you hear theyâŠâ
âGrubâs food. Vittles?â
âFiddles? Morgan theyâre crooks. We need to goâŠâ
âLogan, even I know fiddles are violins. Do you have banjos? I always fancied having a go on one.â
âDonât encourage them, Morgan. They may have bagpipes and you know what they do to my sciatica.â
âYou fellas is kinda squirrely, ainâtcha? Talkinâ food one minute, music the next. Anyway, since ya come all this way, I bet we could git Shorty ta cook somethinâ up fer ya. Sheâs a mighty fine hand at cookinâ.â
âThis Shorty sounds to be my sort of gal. Is that okay? Saying âgalâ? I donât want to gender stereotype.â
âWhyâre they talkinâ âbout typinâ, Pal?â
âLet me handle this, Morgan. Now, are you fine fellows cowboys? Or is that cowpersons over here?â
âWeâre jist humble ranch hands. But Shorty, sheâs a genu-ine buckaroo. A champeen roper anâ rider.â
âChampion ropey writer? Is she not very good at the word-smithery, perchance?â
âLogan, whatâs with the âsmitheryâ baloney? And âperchanceâ? Seriously.â
âI canât help it. Horny handed sons of toil bring out my inner aristocrat.â
âHorny? Um, Pal?â
âThetâs fine, fellas. Shorty goes fer them horns. When sheâs tyinâ goats. Ya ever tossed a goat?â
âDone what? Is that even legal?â
âGents my friend Logan isnât a great one for physical activity. He gets out of breath tossing a salad.â
âMorgan, that is unfair. I came a creditable third equal at fives in the remove.â
âThat sentence doesnât make the slightest sense. But if you want to prove your manly prowess, why not toss a goat?â
âAll right. Pal is it? Take me to this Shor⊠person of diminutive stature and weâll do our best to keep the British pecker high.â
âUh, Pal, is that dial-eck or do these fellas talk dirty?â
âThinkinâ theyâs idioms, Kid.â
âYep, they ainât the sharpest knives in the rack, thatâs fer sure. But if theyâre game ta toss a goat, I still got them billies out back.â
âAll right, Logan, we got goats, anâ hereâs some rope. Letâs go, Cowboy,â
âAre you sure about this Logan? I mean thereâs probably rules andâŠâ
âI think the one thing we Brits learnt about the colonials back in the day is that they donât play by rules. Just hold my bowler and Burberry and Iâll show them how you subdue a longhorn or whatever it is.â
âOkay, though I should maybe mention one thing I know about goats.â
âIf you think it will help me.â
âIf itâs a billy, then remember they attract their mates by erm, scenting their beards.â
âCenting? They weave coins in their whiskers?â
âNoooo, they pee⊠oh here we are. I think you go in there. Iâll sit on the railing. Just holler if you need me. Though actually, Kid?â
âYep?â
âCould we maybe grab a beer while Logan does his thing?â
âWell, I am kinda thirsty⊠Pal, keep an eye on things, Iâll be inside at the bar.â
[LATER]
âPal. Whereâs Logan?â
âGuess ya could say heâs tied up at the moment.â
âMy goodness. What happened?â
âStarted out real slick, twirlinâ thet lasso over his head. Then it dropped right over âim. Then a goat took hold a the rope anâ ran with it. Ran rounâ an rounâ a fence post. Theyâve got him wrapped so tight I cainât git him undone. Git a knife, Kid, letâs go!â
âMy God, Logan! Youâre bleating.â
âIt was baaaad. I think Iâm bleeding too. They bucked me, Morgan.â
âI believe you were butted, not bucked, Logan.â
âYeah, buck up, theyâs jist goats. Ya ready ta go ta the Ranch anâ see the stock? The bulls and broncs?â
âYouâve got to be kidding. Morgan, you said this was on the way to Chicago. I just want pizza.â
âWith all those welts and rope burns, youâre looking like a pizza. But okay, weâll go. After this beer.â
And afore Shorty could even come âroun ta cook âem up some grub, them British fellas rode off down the road with their pizza pie-in-the-sky dreams but without another hankerinâ fer rodeo.
Y’all kin feel free ta leave a tale a yer own ’bout tossing’ or tyin’ thet mebbe turns out un’xpected.  Right there in the comment boxes, jist keep it ta 99 words or less.
???????????? ???????????? ???????????? ???????????? ???????????? ???????????? ???????????? ???????????? ????
Geoff Le Pard started writing to entertain in 2006. He hasnât left his keyboard since. When heâs not churning out novels he writes some maudlin self-indulgent poetry, short fiction and blogs at geofflepard.com. He walks the dog for mutual inspiration and most of his best ideas come out of these strolls. He also cooks with passion if not precision.
Geoff Le Pardâs Amazon Author Page
Booms and Busts
 Itâs 1987 and Harry Spittleâs life is going pretty well: the City of London is booming and his legal career is on an upward trajectory. His long-term relationship with girlfriend Penny is back on an even keel â for now â and they are about to become parents; they are also the proud owners of their first home and have finally joined the property-owning class. So of course everything is about to go horribly wrongâŠ
Find out more about Geoff’s latest, Booms and Busts, HERE.
Pal & Kid are free ranging characters who live and work at Carrot Ranch. They never tuck tail, but their tales are corralled as Ranch Yarns at ShiftnShake. If asked, they will deny that they spill from the pen of D. Avery. Please let these yahoos know what you think, and stop in at the Saddle Up anytime for a virtual good time. Contact D. Avery at averydede.1@gmail.com if you or your characters want to saddle up as a saloon guest.



I wondered how this conversation was going to go and had fun, following along. Maybe Morgan and Logan should introduce cricket to the ranch.
Following suggestions, I lassoed a story for the Crew.
Throwing Loops by Charli Mills
Me and Jaye have thrown so may loops at the plastic steer-head in the sun-bleached bale of oat-grass that neither of us misses for twenty shots. Seeking a moving target, we trot toward the calf pen. I brag that Iâm gonna catch the hind hooves. Across the dirt yard, we see Aunt Bailey collecting eggs from her hens and we stop to watch Reginald spring his spurs on her, that mean old rooster. Aunt Bailey goes to buckinâ and a pitchinâ and me and Jaye run, swinging our lassos. We rope the rooster and Auntie declares him Sunday dinner.
Thanks for hanging on through that wild romp of a conversation. And you tossed us a fine flash! Would that be a BOTS, Boss?
I had no idea Logan spoke in such a refined manner…
I think Morgan was just tossing the bull, so to speak. That was quite the British invasion. I’m tongue tied just reading it.
đ Maybe we need the audio version.
Hear, hear!
He comes over all super posh if confronted with someone so obviously down to earth. He’s getting worse though. Someone needs to rein him in
Morgan?
Logan
Rein him in, but don’t tie him up or fence him in. Let him find his way.
Think she questioning whether it’s you needs reining in, Dear Sir.
Moi? Pretentious?!
Loved this crazy foursome: Kid and Pal crossed with Logan and Morgan is quite an act. No cricket, please, but fabulous fielding from the UK team, Geoff! Since it’s touch and go who’s going to win the Worst Response to the Coronavirus match, we really ought to be keeping score here.
I agree. Someone needs to take a poll. Mind you, i suspect KidnPal batting on their home turf have a built in advantage.
And I can’t catch to save my life … (if that’s not a contradiction in the current circumstances).
The good news about the Saddle Up Saloon is that, while almost anything goes, it is a pandemic free zone where people can relax unmasked and at close range. But what’s up with crickets? Oh! Grub… You eat crickets?!
Not yet, but anything to avoid another battle at the supermarket.
Logan and Morgan were hilarious here. Loved the massive trove of puns!
They were fun. I wonder what form of fun will blow in next week.
Who knows? đ
Forget Me Knot
âSee yer mindinâ yer Pâs anâ Qâs, Kid.â
âCourse Iâm bâhavinâ, Pal. Iâm tendinâ bar tânight.â
âThetâs what I mean. Pâs anâ Qâsâ pints anâ quarts. Ya ainât let go a thet beer tap yet.â
âYeah, âbout that. I tied a knot.â
âWhut? I didân know âbout no nup- chulls!â
âNo, not nup- chulls, a knot âroun my finger to reminâ me a somethinâ.â
âWhut?â
âCainât âmember, but somehow the string got tangled up in the beer tap. Iâm tied ta ma work.â
âStill beer in the keg?â
âYep.â
âYer fine. Pull me a pint, if ya donât mind.â
As usual, I sit here reading puns in awe…I get them, I like them, they don’t pop into my head. Now definitions are another thing, You may regret asking. I need to get to know Logan and Morgan better. And I have always wanted a goat as a pet.
A Silly Tossed Thing
Can the word toss get wrapped in a tongue-tied thing?
Absolutely. Especially when it’s about tossing your hat into the ring.
Or when a college co-ed tosses his clothes out a window, screaming, “I hate you,”
then runs ever so quick to toss her cookies in the loo.
The wind, it can toss anything it wants wildly about outside
even while we toss the covers, all warm and cozy buried inside.
The harried housewife will toss some laundry in the bin
then toss some biscuits in a fancy pretty little tin.
By now I’m sure you are regretting asking.
So many meanings presented, sublime
A toss up which best of these fine lines
Youâve raveled out a colorful thread
Fancy tossed to paper profoundly said
Thank you, dear Susan, for these 99!
Well done, Susan.
Thanks Robbie. Sometimes I write something and think, oh how silly, but right now silly is an attribute so I shared it.
Fit to be tied
Bryan parks beside the corral, jumping to help his fiancĂ©e, Karen. Dubiously she climbs out, looking around with distaste at the manure, the animals everywhere! âAre you sure about this, Bryan?â He shrugs. âShould be fun, honey! Get out of the city for a while, you know?â Karen shakes perfectly coiffed curls, steps carefully around the car. Bryan shouts âlook out honey!â A rope suddenly pressing her arms to her sides, Karen screams. âLooks like you are just about fit to be tied, miss!â laughs the tall cowboy in front of her, rope in hand.
Maybe Bryan is fit to be tied too? Glad to have roped you into tossing a flash into the corral!
A rollicking tale, Miss D. Highly entertaining.
Thank you. Perhaps you can imagine my apprehension at having Geoff and his boys drop by? Dueling dialects with dynamics derived from dialogue, but it seems to have worked out well enough.