Chetspeak on Sunday
A sheriff’s deputy came over, shotgun pointed down, although not completely down. Weapons are something I keep a close eye on.
“What’s goin’ on here?” he said.
“I was just saying that Frenchie hasn’t lost his sense of humor.”
“Bernie?” the deputy said.
“Hey, Waldo,” said Bernie. “How’s it going?”
“Hundred and seven in the shade and I’m out here with the scum of the earth – how do you think it’s going?” Deputy Waldo said, the shotgun now pointed directly at the ground, just the way I like. “This Chet?”
“Heard about him.” Deputy Waldo gave me a close look. Right away, just from a change is his eyes – tiny eyes and pretty cold until this moment – I could tell he liked me and my kind. “A pretty big dude,” Waldo went on. “What’s he weigh?”
“Getting him on the scale’s not easy,” Bernie said.
I remembered that game! Bernie tried to pick me up, maybe with some idea of standing with me on the scale. Lots of fun, but no one picks me up, amigo.
– from The Sound and the Furry.
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