{"id":15582,"date":"2004-04-05T08:21:02","date_gmt":"2004-04-05T12:21:02","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/?p=15582"},"modified":"2025-02-27T12:08:29","modified_gmt":"2025-02-27T17:08:29","slug":"the-chickens-by-robin","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/?p=15582","title":{"rendered":"The Chickens (by Robin)"},"content":{"rendered":"

Summary:<\/strong>\u00a0 A squawking tale about a shipment of chicken for Hop Sing.<\/p>\n

Rating:\u00a0 T\u00a0 (1,850 words)<\/p>\n

Author’s Note:<\/strong> \u00a0The REALLY Losts are satires of the series written with much affection, eye rolling,\u00a0\u00a0and winks. \u00a0And can be somewhat risque’.<\/em><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

The Chickens
\n<\/strong>\u00a0A REALLY Lost Episode<\/strong>
\n<\/strong><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Chapter One – The Ponderosa<\/u><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

\u201cAnd come directly home. Don\u2019t stop at the Silver Dollar for beer\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201dI won\u2019t stop at the Silver Dollar,\u201d Joe repeated the order his father had just given him.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Hoss chuckled. \u201cHe\u2019s promising not to go to the Silver Dollar, Pa. But he ain\u2019t promising to avoid the Rusty Cocktepple or the Golden Gonif.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201dOr the Tippy Teepee or the Suds and Duds Laundromat Saloon on C street or all those disco places over near the mall,\u201d Adam added with a wink.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

\u201cNo beer, no heavy Malaga spritzers, no Brandy Squashes and no Pulque (the infamous cowboy drink brewed from cactus juice and fermented chicken legs),\u201d Ben looked directly into his youngest son\u2019s eyes. \u201cAnd no disco!\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201dNo beer, Pa,” Joe agreed. \u201cNo heavy Malaga spritzers and no Pulque.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201dNo disco!\u201d Ben repeated knowing that his boys couldn\u2019t resist the hypnotizing mirrored ball suspended from the ceiling, the illuminated glass dance floor or one more reprise of a Bee Gee\u2019s tune played by the DJ or joining in a rousing rendition of \u201cYMCA\u201d.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

In his mind, the silver haired cattle baron thanked the good lord that none of his boys had yet bought those white, polyester three piece suits that the dudes back east had started wearing. He had caught Hoss scoping out an ad for one in the flyer for the Virginia City Large and Tall Man\u2019s Shoppe just the other night but his middle boy crumpled up the paper and tossed it into the fire knowing his father\u2019s disdain for synthetic fibers. Times were changing but Ben Cartwright would have to put his foot down on that. Ben shuddered at the thought of the horses bolting and cattle stampeding if his three boys set off in those sissy outfits.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

\u201cAnd absolutely no polyester, Joseph!\u201d<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

\u201cYes, sir,\u201d Joe agreed buttoning his 100% cotton green corduroy jacket with horn buttons. \u201cI won\u2019t even wear underpants if it ain\u2019t natural fibers, Pa.\u201d<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

\u201cStraight into town and pick up that crate of chickens that my old pal Frank Purdue shipped to Hop Sing at the freight office and come directly home.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201dYes, sir,\u201d Little Joe promised. His father had cautioned him to be careful, not drive the buckboard too wildly and to take his time and watch out for bushwhackers, Indians, chicken filchers, horse thieves and rogue Mimes.<\/p>\n

Joe grumbled and sputtered annoyed that his father wouldn\u2019t trust him to complete such a simple task. \u201cPa! I know what to do!\u201d<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

\u201cDirectly home with that crate of chickens. Sign the receipt and load the crate and come straight back to The Ponderosa,\u201d Ben repeated.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

\u201cYes, sir,\u201d Joe nodded.<\/p>\n

\u201cAnd make sure you bring the receipt. I need that for income taxes and that Federal poultry credit. You better take good care of the chickens so that when Hop Sing gets back from taking care of his ailing cousin Jackie Chan, he won\u2019t be upset. He is all set to breed those Purdue chickens with his Peking Ducks to make Duck Nuggets.\u201d<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Hoss\u2019 eyes lit up and he could help salivating in anticipation of a new taste sensation. \u201cMmmmmm. Duck Nuggets!\u201d<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

\u201cPa, I ain\u2019t a stupid kid,\u201d Joe argued.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

\u201cJust careless,\u201d Adam smirked. As the eldest of Ben\u2019s boys, he automatically corrected his younger brothers frequently.<\/p>\n

\u201dAnd a magnet for trouble,\u201d Hoss added philosophically. \u201cLittle Joe will take a simple chore and somehow mess it up.\u201d He was relieved that one of his brothers goofed up more than he did, even though it took Joe being really drunk to mess up worse than the time Hoss put on feather wings and leaped off a cliff or wear chintz caf\u00e9 curtains as a bath robe or take in Ernie the Ape or believe cow pie was made from chocolate pudding.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

\u201cAnd watch that steep hill near the old Goldshmeckle Farm. It is all rutted up at the bottom since the last rain,\u201d Ben added his warning. (EDITOR\u2019S NOTE: this is foreshadowing)<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Chapter Two – Temptation<\/u><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Little Joe hitched up the Chevy buckboard and drove directly into town. He quickly went to the freight office. So far, so good.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

The crate crowded with squawking Purdue chickens was waiting behind the desk. Joe signed the receipt and put his copy into his pocket. Then he loaded the crate into the back of the wagon.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

\u201cI was jest heading over to the Rusty Bucket for lunch break,” said Ace, the Freight Manager. \u201cWhat about joining me for a beer, Little Joe?\u201d<\/p>\n

Joe shook his head, remembering the promise he made to his Pa.<\/p>\n

\u201dHeck, Joe, I\u2019ll buy the first round!\u201d Ace urged.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

\u201cGee, Ace. Pa said come right back to the ranch after picking up the chickens\u2026.\u201d<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

\u201cAnd that new blonde saloon gal, Sadie Hoochiemama has been asking for you, Little Joe.\u201d<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

\u201cFor MEEEE?\u201d Joe\u2019s eyes lit up and his tight 100% natural fiber cowboy pants got tighter. \u201cMEEEEEEEe!\u201d<\/p>\n

Ace nodded. \u201cYup! Got me a nice crisp dollar jest waiting to buy us a round or two and to play a few hands of poker.\u201d<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

\u201cBuck, buck buck!\u201d clucked the chickens.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

\u201cNo jest one dollar,\u201d Ace corrected. \u201cNot three.\u201d He was multilingual, having grown up in the back of a poultry store in Queens, New York before he went west with the Archie Bunker freight company. \u201cSadie was asking for ya, Joe. She said she missed your Cartwright charms.\u201d<\/p>\n

Joe smiled, knowing he had more Cartwright charms than either of his brothers, Cousins Will or Muley. Shloemo the traveling mohel had told his Pa that when Joe was born. Ben was mighty proud and Marie blushed as she knew her baby took after his daddy in the family jewels department. \u201cGot to share those charms and keep the gals happy!\u201d<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

\u201cAnd the first round of drinks is on me!\u201d Ace urged. \u201cJest don\u2019t be ordering one of them pink sissy drinks with the fruit and paper umbrellas in it.\u201d<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

The day was hot and Joe was thirsty and Sadie was awfully pretty. \u201cIt won\u2019t take but a minute to get a beer. Pa will never know!\u201d Joe told the chickens as he carried the crate out of the freight office and loaded it into the buckboard.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

\u201cCluck!\u201d warned the lead chicken.<\/p>\n

\u201dMind your own business,\u201d said the second chicken.<\/p>\n

\u201dThis should be verrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrry interesting!\u201d said the third.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Chapter Three – In the Saloon<\/u><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

One beer became two and a few hands of poker and a round of Candy Land with Ace and Shlomo the traveling Moehl and two cowboys, Spin and Marty from the Triple R Ranch.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

\u201cI won,\u201d Spin pointed out as he drew the Queen Frostine card.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

\u201cWell, you won again!\u201d Joe sighed shoving his money towards Spin. \u201cIt\u2019s getting late!\u201d<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

\u201cWhat are you going to do?\u201d<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019ll just tell Pa the freight office was closed for lunch when I came in and I had to wait around for a bit.\u201d<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Marty raised his eyebrows, knowing full well Joe was cruising for a bruising. He had learned that lies are bad just the other week when he was in Doc Martin\u2019s waiting room reading \u201cHighlights\u201d. Goofus lied but Gallant always told the truth. You would think that with all the time the Cartwrights spent bleeding in Doc Martin\u2019s office, that Joe would have learned that important concept. \u201cYou are going to lie to your father?\u201d Martin gasped.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Joe shrugged. \u201cWhat else can I do? I\u2019ll tell him it was Ace\u2019s fault.\u201d<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Ace nodded in agreement. \u201cGood idea! I\u2019ll back you up if you buy the next round of beers!\u201d<\/p>\n

After a couple of more beers and a few bets on some rubber poop tossing and arm wrestling and a bet on the World Cup Soccer and a kiss or two from Sadie the new bar maid, Joe realized that it was getting close to dark and he better head for home.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Chapter Four – Disaster Strikes<\/u><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

It was starting to rain pretty hard by the time Joe was riding out. He finally was returning from Virginia City with the crate of chickens his father had entrusted to him and a bit of a buzz from the beers. He was almost at the bottom the hill near the Goldshmeckle farm and totally had forgotten that the road was in horrific disrepair.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

The front wheels of the buckboard hit a huge rut and bounced off a rock. All of a sudden, the crate bounced out the back of the wagon. It crashed to the ground and broke open. Frightened chickens scurried off in five different directions.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

The determined cowboy ran all over the old Goldshmeckle place in the downpour, scooping up the wayward birds and returning them to the crate. He managed to tie the crate together with his real leather belt. Hoping he had found them all, the Joe reluctantly returned home in the pouring rain, expecting the worst when his father saw what condition he was in.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Joe arrived just as his family was about to sit down to supper. He was wet and muddy, his belt-less pants drooping low, beer on his breath, chicken poop on his jacket and his head throbbing. He also felt a bit guilty for all the lying he was going to have to do but that didn\u2019t stop him.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

He had not read this month\u2019s Highlights<\/em> and learned the important lesson of lying Goofus and honest Gallant. Coincidentally, this was the first month out of the last twenty-seven that Little Joe hadn\u2019t been head bopped, thrown from a horse, shot, stabbed, or had a broken bone and had no need to see Doc Martin for lead removal, stitches or one of those chic black silk slings.<\/p>\n

Joe put the buckboard and horses away in the barn and then hauled the belt tied crate of squawking chickens across the yard to the porch.<\/p>\n

\u201dYou are quite late, Little Joe!\u201d Ben said eyeing his dirty, bedraggled youngest son limp into the house.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

\u201cYes, sir. I sort of got delayed.\u201d Joe admitted hanging his drippy hat on the hook.<\/p>\n

\u201dDid you get those chickens from the freight station?\u201d Ben asked eyeing his disheveled boy.<\/p>\n

Joe nodded. \u201cThe chickens are still in the crate and I put it on the porch.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cDo you have the receipt?\u201d Ben asked putting out his hand.<\/p>\n

Joe dug deeply into his pockets and handed his father the wet receipt.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

\u201cIs there something you want to tell me, son?\u201d Ben asked.<\/p>\n

“Pa, the chickens got loose over by the old Goldshmeckle place,” the Joe confessed sadly, “but I managed to find all two dozen of them. I\u2019m real sorry Pa. It won\u2019t happen again.”<\/p>\n

“Well, you didn\u2019t do what you promised and made a mess but you did real good straightening it out, son,” Ben Cartwright said raising his eyebrows. \u201cA real good job. Check this out, Adam; my eyes aren\u2019t as sharp as yours.\u201d<\/p>\n

Ben handed his eldest son the filthy, crumbled receipt.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

\u201cYou did a real fine job, Little Brother,\u201d Adam smiled. \u201cAccording to the freight receipt, you left town with twelve chickens.\u201d<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

*****End*****<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Summary:\u00a0 A squawking tale about a shipment of chicken for Hop Sing.<\/p>\n

Rating:\u00a0 T\u00a0 (1,850 words)<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":44,"featured_media":14367,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"template-full-width-post.php","format":"standard","meta":{"_jetpack_newsletter_access":"","_jetpack_dont_email_post_to_subs":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_tier_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paywalled_content":false,"_jetpack_feature_clip_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":"","jetpack_publicize_message":"The Chickens (by Robin)","jetpack_publicize_feature_enabled":true,"jetpack_social_post_already_shared":true,"jetpack_social_options":{"image_generator_settings":{"template":"highway","default_image_id":0,"font":"","enabled":false},"version":2},"jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false},"categories":[23,4],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-15582","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-drama","category-humor","wpcat-23-id","wpcat-4-id"],"jetpack_publicize_connections":[],"jetpack_likes_enabled":true,"jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"jetpack_featured_media_url":"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/wp-content\/uploads\/2017\/06\/ARLE-e1497282889671.png?fit=570%2C416&ssl=1","_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/15582","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/44"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=15582"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/15582\/revisions"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/media\/14367"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=15582"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=15582"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=15582"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}