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Saddle Up Saloon; Wild, Wild Wist

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Saddle Up Saloon

“Pal. Pal, look at these two jist walked in. Jeez. They ain’t from these parts, gare-un-teed. Shhh, shh…. Howdy, fellas, welcome ta the Saddle Up Saloon. Where ya all from?”

“How 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.”

“Shush, Logan. They seem nice people. Try not to upset them, okay.”

“Yes, but…”

“Behave.”

“All right!”

“We’re from the UK. First time in the US of A.”

“Well, welcome ta Carrot Ranch.”

“Carrot…?”

“Ranch.”

“Raunch?”

“Ranch, Logan. It’s their accents.”

“Not exactly the Queen’s English.”

“Logan…”

“Yes, alright. Ranch. Like the dressing?”

“Whut? No, ranch, as in… ranch. Ya know, where food gits raised.”

“We’ve 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?”

“Not that I’ve heard tell of. Reckon if ya leave yer carrots out they git pasture-ized?”

“Shush, Kid. Fellas, yer at Carrot Ranch. Ranch. Ya know, cattle; hosses an’ sech. We even have a rodeo in the fall. D’ya all ride?

He’s not serious is he? No, I don’t ride, other than buses, and that’s only when there aren’t taxis.”

“Logan shush. Did you say you have a rodeo? That’s super exciting. I’ve seen them in films. Movies. There was this girl with a lasso and… no, wait that was a cartoon. But we’d love to see one. We’re really very keen to experience every new cultural experience. Especially food. I heard…”

“Morgan, for goodness sake. Can you stop thinking about your stomach…?”

“I’m always hungry too. Tell ya what, the grub’s real good aroun’ here.”

“Grubs? You eat… grubs? Morgan did you hear they…”

“Grub’s food. Vittles?”

“Fiddles? Morgan they’re crooks. We need to go…”

“Logan, even I know fiddles are violins. Do you have banjos? I always fancied having a go on one.”

“Don’t encourage them, Morgan. They may have bagpipes and you know what they do to my sciatica.”

“You fellas is kinda squirrely, ain’tcha? Talkin’ food one minute, music the next. Anyway, since ya come all this way, I bet we could git Shorty ta cook somethin’ up fer ya. She’s a mighty fine hand at cookin’.”

“This Shorty sounds to be my sort of gal. Is that okay? Saying ‘gal’? I don’t want to gender stereotype.”

Why’re they talkin’ ‘bout typin’, Pal?”

“Let me handle this, Morgan. Now, are you fine fellows cowboys? Or is that cowpersons over here?”

“We’re jist humble ranch hands. But Shorty, she’s a genu-ine buckaroo. A champeen roper an’ rider.”

“Champion ropey writer? Is she not very good at the word-smithery, perchance?”

“Logan, what’s with the ‘smithery’ baloney? And ‘perchance’? Seriously.”

“I can’t help it. Horny handed sons of toil bring out my inner aristocrat.”

“Horny? Um, Pal?”

“Thet’s fine, fellas. Shorty goes fer them horns. When she’s tyin’ goats. Ya ever tossed a goat?”

“Done what? Is that even legal?”

“Gents my friend Logan isn’t a great one for physical activity. He gets out of breath tossing a salad.”

“Morgan, that is unfair. I came a creditable third equal at fives in the remove.”

“That sentence doesn’t make the slightest sense. But if you want to prove your manly prowess, why not toss a goat?”

“All right. Pal is it? Take me to this Shor… person of diminutive stature and we’ll do our best to keep the British pecker high.”

“Uh, Pal, is that dial-eck or do these fellas talk dirty?”

“Thinkin’ they’s idioms, Kid.”

“Yep, they ain’t the sharpest knives in the rack, that’s fer sure. But if they’re game ta toss a goat, I still got them billies out back.”

“All right, Logan, we got goats, an’ here’s some rope. Let’s go, Cowboy,”

“Are you sure about this Logan? I mean there’s probably rules and…”

“I think the one thing we Brits learnt about the colonials back in the day is that they don’t play by rules. Just hold my bowler and Burberry and I’ll show them how you subdue a longhorn or whatever it is.”

“Okay, though I should maybe mention one thing I know about goats.”

“If you think it will help me.”

“If it’s a billy, then remember they attract their mates by erm, scenting their beards.”

“Centing? They weave coins in their whiskers?”

“Noooo, they pee… oh here we are. I think you go in there. I’ll sit on the railing. Just holler if you need me. Though actually, Kid?”

“Yep?”

“Could we maybe grab a beer while Logan does his thing?”

“Well, I am kinda thirsty… Pal, keep an eye on things, I’ll be inside at the bar.”

[LATER]

“Pal. Where’s Logan?”

“Guess ya could say he’s tied up at the moment.”

“My goodness. What happened?”

“Started out real slick, twirlin’ thet lasso over his head. Then it dropped right over ‘im. Then a goat took hold a the rope an’ ran with it. Ran roun’ an roun’ a fence post. They’ve got him wrapped so tight I cain’t git him undone. Git a knife, Kid, let’s go!”

“My God, Logan! You’re bleating.”

“It was baaaad. I think I’m bleeding too. They bucked me, Morgan.”

“I believe you were butted, not bucked, Logan.”

“Yeah, buck up, they’s jist goats. Ya ready ta go ta the Ranch an’ see the stock? The bulls and broncs?”

“You’ve got to be kidding. Morgan, you said this was on the way to Chicago. I just want pizza.”

“With all those welts and rope burns, you’re looking like a pizza. But okay, we’ll go. After this beer.”

And afore Shorty could even come ‘roun ta cook ‘em up some grub, them British fellas rode off down the road with their pizza pie-in-the-sky dreams but without another hankerin’ 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 hasn’t left his keyboard since. When he’s 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 Pard’s Amazon Author Page

 

Booms and Busts

 It’s 1987 and Harry Spittle’s 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 – for now – 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 wrong…

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.


29 Comments

  1. Charli Mills says:

    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 I’m 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 buckin’ and a pitchin’ and me and Jaye run, swinging our lassos. We rope the rooster and Auntie declares him Sunday dinner.

    Liked by 5 people

  2. I had no idea Logan spoke in such a refined manner…

    Liked by 3 people

  3. 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.

    Liked by 4 people

  4. Logan and Morgan were hilarious here. Loved the massive trove of puns!

    Liked by 3 people

  5. Forget Me Knot

    “See yer mindin’ yer P’s an’ Q’s, Kid.”
    “Course I’m b’havin’, Pal. I’m tendin’ bar t’night.”
    “Thet’s what I mean. P’s an’ Q’s— pints an’ quarts. Ya ain’t let go a thet beer tap yet.”
    “Yeah, ‘bout that. I tied a knot.”
    “Whut? I did’n know ‘bout no nup- chulls!”
    “No, not nup- chulls, a knot ‘roun my finger to remin’ me a somethin’.”
    “Whut?”
    “Cain’t ’member, but somehow the string got tangled up in the beer tap. I’m tied ta ma work.”
    “Still beer in the keg?”
    “Yep.”
    “Yer fine. Pull me a pint, if ya don’t mind.”

    Liked by 1 person

  6. susansleggs says:

    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.

    Liked by 3 people

  7. Cara Stefano says:

    Fit to be tied
    Bryan parks beside the corral, jumping to help his fiancée, Karen. Dubiously she climbs out, looking around with distaste at the manure, the animals everywhere! “Are you sure about this, Bryan?” He shrugs. “Should be fun, honey! Get out of the city for a while, you know?” Karen shakes perfectly coiffed curls, steps carefully around the car. Bryan shouts “look out honey!” A rope suddenly pressing her arms to her sides, Karen screams. “Looks like you are just about fit to be tied, miss!” laughs the tall cowboy in front of her, rope in hand.

    Liked by 2 people

  8. A rollicking tale, Miss D. Highly entertaining.

    Liked by 1 person

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