Summary:  What else is there to do around a camp fire?

Rating:  T  (1,550 words)

Author’s Note:  The REALLY Losts are satires of the series written with much affection, eye rolling,  and winks.  And can be somewhat risque’.

 

Camp Fire Tales
A REALLY Lost Episode

It had been a long day on the Ponderosa for the four Cartwrights. They were camping out under the starry sky.

“That reminds me of a tale that Great Grand daddy Cartwright told us,” Cattle Baron Ben said as he took the overflowing tin dish of garbanzo beans soufflé Joe handed him. He was trying one of the recipes he got from Emeril, a man who mysteriously knew REAL Marie in New Orleans.

“A tale from Great Grand daddy Cartwright?” Hoss said as he helped himself to a crispy baguette. Little Joe sure could do wonders with beans and hard tack when that boy put his mind to it.

“Tell us Pa!” Adam loved to hear Great Grand daddy-tales.

Joe climbed on his father’s lap and snuggled even though he was almost a grown man. “Watch those pointy boots, son. Don’t want your old Pa, singing soprano now do you son?“ Ben warned as Little Joe settled into a comfortable position.

Joe loved to hear stories and get cozy on Pa’s massive lap. Just last night all the boys snuggled up around the campfire, leaned on their saddles while Ben read them a chapter from the latest Harry Potter book Harry Potter and the Magical Mythical Horseshoe Chamber Pot and the Horse Shoe Shaped Tush,  Adam had brought the new book all the way from Ye Olde Book Nook in the Virginia City Mall. He had started reading it on the way home when one of the Joads shot him. The bullet lodged in the Harry Potter book saving Adam from death or worse.

“Tell us Great Grand daddy’s story!” All the boys begged.” Please Pa!!! Please!”

Ben hefted his tin cup took a sip of his coffee and started “It was spring in the old west…. Or new west as Great Grand daddy would say as it was new then but old now..“

“Quite a paradox,“ Adam observed.

“A pair of ducks?“ Hoss asked. “Why not a pair of chickens?“

“A pair of fried chickens, big brother,“ Joe teased.

“I said PARADOX!” Adam shouted.

“Oh like two doctors? Doc Martin and Doc Adams?” Joe asked.

Adam had once been shot visiting Miss Kitty in the Long Branch saloon, and Doc Adams yanked the bullet out of his armpit. But that is another story. The rash he had was another story too. Adam swore Joe to secrecy and gave him a free pass to the Virginia City Little Theatre production of “Fantastiks” where Adam was playing El Gallo and promised to introduce Joe to the gal playing “THE GIRL“.

“A pair of DOCS?” Hoss repeated.

“Or Doctor Hawkeye Pierce and Doctor Trapper John?” Ben asked. “They are a pair.”

“Trapper John? Who the heck is that?” Adam asked scratching himself where his chaps had chafed his rash. He would have to remember to rub some powder on that rash later on. Unfortunately all he had was gunpowder and that could be dangerous if he sat too close to the campfire.

“Trapper John? Must be a couple of Pa’s long lost pals from his sailing – army- whaling- fur trading – Indian fighting-newscasting days,” Hoss suggested. He grinned as it wasn’t often he knew something Adam didn’t know. Before he owned the Ponderosa, Pa had even narrated some hygiene films that Joe found online and had played semi-pro lacrosse.

“Shush, Pa is telling a tale!“ Joe reminded the others. He snuggled close to his Pa. “Did your pal have a daughter Pa?”

Ben shook his head and continued, “The cowboy rode the still snow choked trails looking for naugas that survived the winter. He also was going to fish for gefiltes as Passover was just around the corner and the sushi market was paying a good price for prime fishies. As the cowboy’s horse went around the narrow trail, it came upon a rattlesnake warming itself in the spring sunshine. The horse reared and the cowboy drew his six-gun to shoot the miserable snake.”

“OH WOW!” all the boys exclaimed. The loved gross stories of shot snakes guts almost as gross stories with exploded lizards or burning spiders.

“Hold on there, partner,” said the snake, “don’t shoot, I’m an enchanted rattlesnake, and if you don’t shoot me, I’ll give you any three wishes you want.”

“THREE WISHES!” Adam, Hoss and Little Joe said in unison. “We would wish for three GIRLS!!!”

“Ahem…” Ben cleared his throat. “May I go on with the story?”

“Yes, sir!” Adam said. He had good manners.

“Yes sir!” Hoss said. He too had good manners.

“Can I keep all three girls?” Joe said. He had good manners but he loved girls. He hated to see any living females go to waste. If his brothers were going to decline their share, Little Joe would scoop them all up.

“Go on Pa. Finish the story,” Adam asked.

“First dibs on the girls,” Joe reminded his brothers.

“Hush up, Little Joe!” Hoss said. “Pa is telling us a bed time tale.”

Ben continued, “ The cowboy decided to take a chance. He knew he was safely out of the snake’s striking range. He said, “OK, first, I’d like to have a face like Adonis, then, I’d like a build like Hercules or Arnold Schwarzenegger, the Terminator… and finally, I’d like sexual equipment like this here horse I’m riding.”

“OH WOW!!!” all three boys elbowed each other. “ Hooo hA!”

“Bet Miss Kitty would be happy about that, huh Adam?” Joe said.

Adam jammed a cow pie in Joe’s mouth. “Hush up, Little Brother! Have some dessert.”

“The rattlesnake said, “All right, when you get back to the bunk house you’ll have all three wishes.”

The cowboy turned his horse around and galloped at full speed all the way to the bunkhouse. He dismounted on the run and went straight inside to the mirror. Staring back at him in the mirror was the face of Adonis, the handsomest Greek God. He ripped the shirt off his back and revealed bulging, rippling muscles, just like Hercules. Really excited now, he tore down his jeans, looked at his crotch and shouted…”Oh My God… I was riding the GELDING.

“Good tale Pa!!” all the boys chorused. They had all learned not to trust magic snakes and always know if they were riding a gelding.

“Now you boys should turn in. We have a big day tomorrow,” Ben said as he plopped marshmallows into each boy’s mug of cocoa.

“Too bad we are plum out of peeps!” Hoss sighed.

“Yep nothing like a pair of yellow peeps a floatin’ in your cocoa!” Ben sighed. “Life can’t get much better than that.”

All the boys looked at each other and silently decided that Pa needed to meet Miss Kitty.

“Pa tell us again about that crocodile that et Abel Stoddard’s hand…” Hoss pleaded. He wasn’t ready to go to sleep yet.

“It wasn’t my grandfather!” Adam reminded his chubby brother. He slurped the cocoa.

“It was that rat guy who came along with the phony Gilly Maples that time when Adam ran away from home not realizing there is no place like home,” Joe declared. “Remember that Adam. There is no place like HOME!”

“The one with the peg leg hand who poked the hole in the front door trying to give Pa a poke in the puss?” Hoss asked. “We had to go all the way to Home Depot in Carson City to get a new door.”

“One and the same, “Ben nodded. “The fellow with the bridge table leg for a hand that the phony Gilly got killed by.” The sentence was completely ungrammatical but the boys got the idea.

“Instead of you darling Pa!” The boys said thankfully. They were glad the phoney Gilly died and not Pa.

“I’m still hungry,” said Hoss. “Thinking about Pa almost biting the dust made me hungry.”

“Wish I had some dessert,” Joe said from his bedroll.

“Some pie or cake or Twinkies.” Hoss sighed.

“I’ve been thinking,” Adam started.

“That’s always dangerous, har har,” Hoss and Joe laughed.

“Hush up boys. I didn’t take a home equity loan on the Ponderosa to pay for Adam’s education at Unnamed U back east for him not to think. What are you thinking about, son? Dead girlfriends?”

“No, Pa. Humanitarian thoughts.”

“That’s my boy!” Ben smiled proudly in the dark. He had raised his boys to be generous and kind and decent to all people and animals except for nasty snakes they met along the road. .”What brilliant thoughts were you thinking about humanitarians, Adam?”

“Well Pa, if a vegetarian eats vegetables, what does a humanitarian eat? And if chocolate cookies are made from chocolate what are Girl Scout cookies made from?”

“Hmm sounds like a tasty morsel to me.” Little Joe sighed. He wondered if there was possibly a Girl Scout camp somewhere near. He just loved green uniforms on pretty girls. He rolled over and hoped he had a hot torrid dream about helping those girl scouts earn their anatomy badges rather than nightmares about falling off Eagle’s nest.

“Go to sleep boys. Tomorrow is a big day for us,” Ben directed as he rolled over and pulled his satin duvet bedroll over his head.

 

THE END
JULY 2003