Snarlin’ Bob & Crazy Ernie

Snarlin' Bob & Crazy Ernie


 © 2005 Ken Overcast

     I really hate those telephone salesmen that call you up right in the middle of your dinner to sell you some dang thing or other, but I'll tell you what, they're not nearly as annoying as the ones that make you run for the phone only to hear, "this is a courtesy call from....
blah, blah, blah". I'm not even sure what that little sweetheart on the other end is calling about, but I DO KNOW that I don't give a rip.

     Even worse are the ones that make the phone jingle off the wall and just plain aren't there after you've broken your neck to answer it. The only thing I can figure out is it must be some computer nerd - turned salesman on the other end that dials a half a dozen suckers at a time and then the first lucky one to pick up gets to talk to him, while the rest of us are left jilted to rub the sore toe we stubbed running to answer the phone in time. Dang that's aggravatin'.

     I yearn for the "good ol' days" when folks actually took the time to drive all the way out to your place to give you a sales pitch for something you didn't need.
Avoiding those guys really got to be an art. There are some folks that considered putting the run on a salesman a real challenge and went to great lengths to make it fun.

     I just heard about a couple of guys down on the Big Horn that had the art nearly perfected. One of them, we'll call Ernie just for fun, had a plane that he used to check his cows and could land that puppy on a postage stamp just about anyplace he wanted to. His buddy Bob was a rough and ready sort that had been in more wrecks than you could shake a stick at. One of them had left him with an ugly scar that started in his forehead above his right eye, and traveled south through his eyebrow and across both eyelids and cheek before takin'
a left turn and getting all tangled up in his lips. It was a bad one.

     The Doc that had stitched him back together must have had more experience with sewing gunny sacks than he did cowboys, because things really didn't fit quite like they did before. When he was stitching above Bob's eye he was makin' sure he had things nice and tight, so that part was pulled way up and his poor old eye wouldn't even shut all the way and he always looked about half surprised.... actually, the right half of his face always looked surprised. By the time the Doc had gotten down to the lower half of the laceration, he must have been getting a little tired, because the sutures got farther apart the further south you went, and the extra skin that should have let Bob's eye go shut let the right half his mouth droop down in a permanent snarl. I think the Doc should have stuck with gunny sacks.

     It really didn't slow ol' Bob down much. He claimed he wasn't all that good lookin' before so a little thing like a ten inch scar on his face was no big deal. As a matter of fact, he used what most folks would look upon as a handicap to his advantage lots of times. One of the favorite tricks these two jokers had was to use the way Bob looked to put the run on strange salesmen that happened to stray into the sticks and onto the road that went up the creek where they lived.

     The first time happened quite by accident. They were having a cup of coffee one mornin' when the dust of an approaching outfit came over the hill. Sure enough.... a salesman. They hatched a plan to have a little fun with the greenhorn peddler while at the same time avoid buying something they didn't need.

     Bob ran to the bathroom sink and lathered his mouth up with toothpaste, and left a little foam to dribble out the corners of his crooked grin. By the time the unwary salesman entered the kitchen door, Bob was hiding under the table wearing one of those spiked collars usually reserved for a bull dog, with its attached chain tied to one of the table legs.

     Both of those boys ought to be in the sales field themselves.... or maybe in the movies. Ernie did all of the talking and convinced the poor visitor he was nutty as a fruit cake. Every so often Bob would come snarlin' out from under the table, foaming at the mouth and hit the end of the chain as the would-be salesman backed toward the door.

     "Get back under there!" Ernie would yell at him, "Can't you see I got company?" A stiff kick in the ribs would send "Snarlin' Bob" back under the table while "Crazy Ernie" kept trying to convince their visitor he should stay for dinner. In a couple of seconds out from under the table would charge Bob again, snarlin' foam and all, lunging at the end of his chain in an attempt to bite the stranger.

     The guest didn't stay for dinner. As a matter of fact, he barely remembered his hat. He tore out of there in a wild cloud of dust, never hearing the hysterical laughter coming from the kitchen he felt so fortunate to escape.
 
     That dust was still hanging in the morning air as the two clowns and their dog collar jumped in "Crazy Ernie's"
plane. Imagine the salesman's horror when he opened the kitchen door on the next ranch up the creek only to find "Slobberin' Snarlin' Bob" pulling at his chain and trying to bite him.
  
     Nobody ever saw that guy again, and putting the run on him was so fun that Bob and Ernie got all the encouragement they needed to put their "crazy act"
into gear every chance they got.

     Ain't life fun?

  Keep Smilin'....        & amp; nbsp;
         &nbs p;          &n bsp;        and don't forget to check yer cinch.

Ken Overcast is a recording cowboy singer who ranches on Lodge Creek in North Central Montana where he raises and dispenses B.S.      

www.kenovercast.com    


Edited by TasunkaWitko