Water Rats

The WeenerMan pulls out the propane grill, “Hardly used,” HM comments.
“Oh the crew an’ me mostly eat at closest diner, we’d do drive-thru if they had’em where the boat could get at’em.” Mike Fink offers.
HM starts setting out the ingredients.
I remark, “Never knew that flour was so white, Sam Bascom never sells us anything this good of quality.”
“Sam Bascom?” Mke Fink asks, “I’ve heard of him, he’s a shyster.”
I shrug, “Always seemed to be pretty extroverted to me.”
The Weenerman tosses the sausages, bacon, and eggs onto the griddle and starts pumping bags of ingredients into a large kettle.
“Whatcha making?” Mike Fink inquiries.
“Flapjacks,” the Weenerman answers straight-faced.
“That will go real well with the sausage, eggs, and bacon,” Mke Fink rubs his belly, then turns and yells, “Hey you worthless, scurvy-bottomed, good for nothing, lolly-gaggers, get your keesters up, I’m of a mind to eat all this grub for myself!”
“Don’t worry,” the WeenerMan says with a mysterious smile, “There will be plenty for everybody.”
Then after HM gets all of the ingredidnts dumped into the kettle and added eggs, water, and cooking oil, he furls his brow, “You wouldn’t have a large wooden spoon to mix this?” he asks.
Micheal Fnk rubs his chin, “Guess not,” he remarks, “Lioke I said me an’ the crew mostly eat fast-food, we make anything here, we usualy just grab a stick.”
I spot a metal rod-type thing standing unused along a corner, “Howw about this?” I hand it over to Weener.
HM furls his brow again as he examines the metal rod, “A Five-iron?” he exclaims, “Micheal, I never knew you for one to play golf?”
“Heh-heh. Tried it once,” Mike Fink guffaws, “Found out that I see enough water-hazards on the river already,” Mike grinsgrins, “Nasw, we keep that five-iron around for whoppng gators off the boat wen we’re working down in bayou-country.”
“Sounds like a good use for one,” the WeenerMan agrees, then holding the golf club up asks, “Mind if I try it out as a mixing utensil?”
Micheal Fink gets that grin on his face, “Sure go ahead, never thought of that, another good use for a golf club.”
I get concerened, “If you’ve been whopping crocodiles and alligators with that golf club, don’t you think it needs washed first?”
Micheal Fink looks at me and then slaps the side of his head, ‘Of course, lets see,” grabbing the five iron from the Weener, Micheal Fink swishes the golf club around several times in the turbid waters of the Too Much Creek.
Pulling the five iron back out, “Micheal Fink inspects the golf club before handing it back to the WeenerMan, “There, that’ll do,” Mike Fink announces.
HM Weenerman nods his head in agrreement and plunges the five iron into the ingredients and starts stirring up a batter.
I shrug, “That’s one way to cure your slice.”

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About offroad2084

Work on the Work In Progress, MyDay in HicksTown. A light-hearted look at life in the fictional town of HicksTown in WeenerMan Township.
This entry was posted in Books, Country Humor, Entertainment, rural humor, Travel, Uncategorized and tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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