HIGH NOON
MY DINNER WITH ALEX
Alex let himself be led into the big red farmhouse and was introduced to the two daughters, lovely Pshellyrose clad entirely in red floral patterns, and Psweetpea who purred when introduced to the handsome stranger wearing the weary but knowing smirk under his dusty Stetson! The two little ladies vied with one another to gain his attention and monopolize his conversation.
"Shame, shame" cried their mother, the shortest woman Alex had ever looked over, errr, had ever seen, "leave the poor boy alone until at least after supper." KennyC(hicken) saw his bemused stare and explained "Yup, she might be short but she's the best cuddler this side of the Pecos." IAm blushed prettily and said "Oh pa! Don't embarrass me in front of our guest."
Just then Alex was saved from further conversational forays by the sound of the dinner gong: "Cock-a-doodle-do" reverberated over the ranch, causing all the nesting hens to shriek madly inside the barns.
KennyC hauled Alex into the brightly lit dining room and sat him down between his two daughters, who simpered and primped using their shining dinner plates as mirrors.
Then chef beppe, "the terror of all pullets," and his shy, quiet assistant Davimeet-ya began serving the dinner. It was ALL chicken! Course after course after course of chicken. Beppe and Davimeet-ya groaned under the trays of gallinaceous gourmet pickings. Chicken soup. Chicken cheese sticks. Roast chicken. Fried chicken. Cold chicken. Chicken nuggets. Chicken slivers. ....... Alex's head swam with horror as he heard his host declaim: "Yup, we love chicken here. All chickens. All the time. We have chicken every day for every meal. We even dream of chickens. Chickens are my best friends. My little girls grew up in the hen house playing with their meals." And on and on and on went the devilish diatribe until Alex became pale and faint. The two girls accentuated their father's speech by clutching Alex's thigh excitedly just thinking about chickens.
Just when Alex thought he would scream if he heard the word chicken one more time, the drums began .... at first faintly in the far distance, but then growing loud and rhythmic as the individual drummers found their beat. Desperate to change the dinner table topic of non-conversation, Alex innocently asked "Who's playing the drums? Is it a neighboring ranch?"
KennyC's face darkened at once, suffused with rage and hatred. "Them's the drums of those heathenish Oz-Indians! They live in the middle of nowhere and obey no laws of man or land. They claim their tribe sprang forth on a continent of their own, but can't explain how they ended up here in our desert. They claim that their tribal motto is 'Better living through chemicals' - but every time one of them varmints yells it they all fall down howling and laughing like wild godless apes."
"At first they weren't too bad as neighbors -- until they started stealing the chicken feed and fermenting it into grain mash -- and making their own rot-gut whiskey! Out of perfectly good, nutritious chicken feed! What a waste!"
"They're led by a shaman, Mountsymagazines - you'll recognize him right off with his heathenish face paint and ungodly hat. He claims to have a big ugly hairy gibbon as his familiar."
Alex broke in excitedly "Yes -- I saw him at the Llounge Saloon playing the piano."
"Right," agreed IAm, "when Mags doesn't need him for scrying and casting spells, the gibbon has a day job at the saloon. He's the only one strong enough to wind the rolls and pump the pedals on that old piece of junk they call a pianer!"
"The shaman is the one who turned Wolf man into the creature he is today. Did you meet him too at the saloon?"
Alex shuddered as he remembered those demonic, brooding mis-matched googly eyes peering into his soul.
GeoffChicken ran in the door just then and announced: "Boss! Come quick! Those dang-blamed Oz-Injuns are on the move! Coming this way! And they have their queen riding with them!" Shrill hennish screams rang out over the ranch! Chickens were trying to fly!
(To be continued .... c'mon folks - it's a western - you knew there'd be Indians)
(And what's happening back in MR-Rock?)
(Who will rescue the hapless residents of the Cross-the-Road Chicken ranch?)