End Of A Legend
Heed This Fruitful Warning • The Pen Thief • Hollister Bootstone and The Tale Of Unnecessarily Angry Bart
One Minute Wit
Heed This Fruitful Warning
I try to avoid throwing banana peels on a hill.
Once you start throwing banana peels on a hill, it’s a slippery slope.
50-Word Story
The Pen Thief
The pen hadn’t been worth stealing, Geordie thought when he heard the pawn broker’s offer. He decided to keep it.
The man he stole it from was a famous writer. Geordie saw him every day in the park, scratching away in a notebook.
The next day, Geordie stole a notebook.
Little-Known History
End Of A Legend
May 03, 1758 • Connecticut
Today, a legend came to an end.
A legend named Smishy.
Smishy was a frog like no other.
A frog who traveled all the way from Florida to Connecticut.
A frog who brought the warring factions of Connecticut frogs into a peaceful single tribe that still exists today.
A frog who set the speed record for swimming across Lake Lillinonah.
A frog loved by all frogs in this land.
But today, dear friends,
Smishy ate a bug,
leapt off a lily pad,
swam across a pond,
navigated a field of wildflowers,
narrowly escaped the talons of a hawk,
jumped onto a dirt trail,
and was run over by Reverend Smith’s horse and wagon.
Smishy’s time on this land is over, but his memory will live on in song.*
*Frogs use a system of songs handed down from generation to generation to record history. Most humans ignore these songs, but I just happen to be fluent in Frog. I heard the tale of Smishy this morning. Rest in peace Smishy, knowing your song is still sung.
Humorous Western
Hollister Bootstone and The Tale Of Unnecessarily Angry Bart
-1880-
The desert gets right cold at night. It ain’t a hospitable place for humans. But humans are well-known to venture where they ought not. Hollister Bootstone and Jeb Bigranch found themselves out in the desert, in the dark of night, sitting next to a campfire.
Hollister was a cowboy. Then he wasn’t. No one is quite sure what he is now. Some say he is a desperado. Some say he is a ghost. Some say he is justice. Some say he’s just lazy. When folks ask, he says, “I’m just passin’ through.” I guess you could call him a traveler.
Well, his travels led him to Jeb Bigranch. Jeb owned a big ranch and was having some trouble with a particularly ornery, overly-large coyote who kept killing his cattle. Hollister learned of the problem and volunteered his services. Now when I say volunteered, I don’t mean for free. Although Hollister never asked for money, it was understood. No man hunts down a particularly ornery, overly-large coyote for free.
They hunted the coyote for three days. He was a wily one, that coyote. Finally, they cornered him in a gully. I’ll spare you the details in case you’re a bit squeamish, but it’s factual to say, that coyote won’t be killing no more cattle on Bigranch ranch. Or anywhere else, for that matter.
It was too late in the day to ride back to the ranch so Jeb and Hollister made camp for the night. Now any cowboy knows, stories are better than gold when you’re sittin’ around a campfire. Hollister was in a particularly good mood so he got to tellin’ the tale of Unnecessarily Angry Bart.
“I walked into the saloon and Bart was bedeviling poor old Shaky Joe. Pushing him around and callin’ him a coward. Telling old Joe he was a cheater and they needed to settle it outside with pistols. Now, everyone knows Joe ain’t no cheater. He loses more at poker than anyone I know. Bart knew it too. Plus, Joe’s pert near 50 years old. So I felt it only right to intervene on Joe’s behalf.”
“I said, ‘Now you listen to me Unnecessarily Angry Bart.
There’s only two types of people in this world. Dead and alive.
Well, that’s not exactly true.
There is a whole mess of different types of living people.
But I’m trying to come up with quotable sayings in case someone ever makes a moving picture about me.
It ain’t as easy as you might think.
Anyway, back to what I was saying.
I’m fixing’ on stayin’ in the second category a bit longer, so I suggest you holster that pistol if you don’t want to end up in the first category.
And stop bothering people who ain’t quite as unnecessarily angry as you.’
The saloon started emptying out. Bart was none too pleased with my take on the situation. He gave me an unnecessarily angry look and said,
‘I don’t see how it’s any of your concern, Bootstone, but I’m content to settle the matter out in the street. If you ain’t afeard to.’
I said, ‘I got a better plan.’
I shot his hat off his head and his gun out of his hand before he could blink an unnecessarily angry eye. Then I told him to leave town. And if I ever saw him again I would aim for less expendable items.”
“Hoowee! Did it work?” Jeb asked.
“Well, I left town six months later. No one had seen hide nor hair of him in all that time,” I replied.
“By the by, did I mention that I was fixing’ to pay ya when we get back to the ranch?” Jeb said.
“I figured.”
Such was life, somewhere in the Old West.
There will be more Hollister stories, Pardner. Stay tuned.
Happy Monday.
Mark
I like The Pen Thief!
I'm way behind on my Substack reading, things having been insanely busy for me. I'm glad I decided to start with this issue, rather than going back to the first issue still patiently waiting in my inbox. I just subscribed! Can't wait to read your new space adventure. Oh, and here's your challenge: pickles, bachelor party, blue box (Do you have blue boxes for recycling where you live?)