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Guest Writer's Cabin

This is another story presented to you all to enjoy by a feller goes by the name "Two Blankets" And please respect his copyright and don't take any or all of his story thanks and enjoy!
 

THE Chainsaw Revisited
 

Here it is the continuation of the Loosegroup and another Adventure? *BG*
 

 

The Coyote County Militia
 

'Bout a few weeks ago, The Loose Group were knee deep in the goins on at the regular monthly blackpowder shootin match. That is to say, we were leaning agin the pickup door holdin our usual Bench Shooters meetin. Just doin our regular best towards solvin the worlds problems. And just in case you've disremembered - The Loose Group Bench Shooters Association was formed and dedicated to studyin on, and solvin such problems as deeply disturb us and our fellow man. Matter 0f fact, sometimes we study up solutions that has to have a problem invented for 'em.
 

If I remember rightly, it was that lawyer fells, Al Capon (no "E" - remember? ) that come up with the idea that we ought to fall in an do our duty regarding this militia thing. Now that sort of caught us flatfooted I admit. We was just standin around, spittin and scratchin and arguin about who'se turn it was to punch holes in our targets and go turn em in to the scoreshed - and right out of the blue like a streak of lightnin this dummy wants us to join the Army
 

Now for some of us in The Group, this idea hit kinda like backin into a Warm Mornin stove stoked up with hedge knots. Surprising, to say the least. You see, when several of us were younger (a whole heap younger) we had made the acquaintance of Uncle Sam's Army. But that was back when we figgered we was bullet proof and eight foot tall. It was our duty, you see. Near ever family in the county has a history of sendin boys off to settle some or another kind of Federal dispute, some goin clear back to that police action they refer to as the "War of Northern Agression". When the stuff hits the fan, you just naturally went down and joined up. Didn't matter much where they were sendin you or what the doins was all about. When yer country calls, you go - an that's all there is to that
 

I reckon most of us just sort of figgered we's too old and slow for dodgin ball and shot nowadays. I mean, the Federals had made it pretty clear to most of us, that onct they was through with us, they didn't have much use for us anyways agin. I can't count the times I've heard the boys tell about bein turned down for things the Goverment promised 'em in return for doin a bit of soldierin for them. Seems pretty clear to me that onct they's done with you -they're done. You might as well not bother 'em none either, or they'll get their back up and try to lynch you with all that red tape the Federals are so fond of! And as Bear Ash is plumb tickled to remind us, the Goverment decided they had a good thing a qoin when those early treatys worked out the way they did - so they just added a passel of fancy words and used the same dammed plan on the citizens. When an idea works - you don't fool with it....!
 

Well, anyhow, old Al come hellbent fer election into the parkin lot in that big old right new third hand Buick of his. Pulled left rudder, grabbed a whole bunch of brake and danged near got her cinched up just short of the older hooter. Don't matter a bit I guess, since the wall he took out don't face square to the onlookers at the picnic tables. Onct he got her tied up, he come bouncin outta that car talkin a mile a minute. Had this fire in his eye that woulda done a Baptist preacher proud you know. Of course the first thing we all noticed, was that fancy speckeldy camyflage turkey huntin suit he had on. Looked near like some of them outfits you see in the big mail order catalogs we keep in the hooters. I'll say this for him, he does present a dashing figure in that rig. Why shoot, a man could cut hisself on them starched creases. I reckoned them big chrome eagles on his collar was not entirely useful though. You know them turkeys see right smart - they'd pick up that shiny stuff in a New York minute. Had this black thing all over his head too; called it a barrette, er baroter somesuch. Right proud of it too he was; but I got to tell you, it looks a awful lot like a limp old sock cap.
 

So when he finally gets within hearin range, we figgered out he was tellin us we's in the Militia and we gotta gather up and form a Company. Right about there was when we backed up agin that stove. . . .
 

Well, he kept rattlin on the way lawyers do. You know, if you study on it - I bet them fellers talk to theirselves. Now think about it: they start talkin when they get near you, and they's still talkin when you get away from 'em . I suppose they talk to theirself just to keep in practice. But I guess we learnt to put up with Al over the years. He ain't much of a shot, and he don't know beans about shootin irons, but he does do a powerful good job writing letters for us. And he's awful good about keepin us supplied with them business cards he calls "Get Out of Jail Free" tickets. Although to hear some of the boys tell it, there ain't nothin free about it. Guess he has a lot of business, for there must be a eight er a dozen office phone numbers on that card. Course, I've found it's a mite tough to get people to answer them pay phones.
 

I recollect what he started out on, was that it was our Constitutional right and duty to be a part of the Militia. We gotta stand ready to defend against all comers that would try an tromp all over our Bill of Rights an all them Amendaments. Seems they's a bunch of pinko-commie hippies takin over our goverment. They're set to crack down on us freetrappers and danged near make POWs outta us. Gonna make our hard money worthless too. (course, lots of folk figgered that already happened back when the Federals took away the Gold Standard , so that weren't no surprise) I understand that when enough of them hippies gets elected or bought into office, they's goin to create one big mess of a state ana control it all irom some fort Wall street or somethin. Gonna happen soon too, according to them big city newspapers. Least that's what Mr. Capon says. Now I grant you; most all our readin comes from them mail order catalogs in the hooters," Guns and Ammo", and "Four Wheel Drive"; plus the occasional ''Alvord Mirror". Now that Mirror ain't a bad birdcage liner, and usually if'n you stop in the printshop and whine awhile, the editor will give you one for free just to get rid of you. Depends on how brave you are at that time of day though. Bear Ash says that newspaper feller can steal yer soul if'n he uses that blamed glass plate camry on you. Seem some of them pitures he prints -I'm inclined to be cautious But nowheres in that mess of readin had we come across any such thing like this old boy was tellin us. Only thing I can say, is that I reckon when a big deal paper like the "National Enquirer" says it's so - then by gum - it must be so. And there it was, front page, big as life and twict as mean.
 

Appears we're facin a threat to our chosen way of life. They's fixin to do away with a bunch of our liberties. Their gonna infringe on our rights to act a fool. And then there was the one that yanked everyone's chain..... no more guns! Now I guarandamntee you that one made ever member of the Loose Group get up on his hind legs. No shootin irons? Why tarnation, that'd put the fix on more'n half the folks in the whole dammed country. Just think on it. Without huntin and shootin matches - what would there be to do. Wouldn't have no excuse to lay around the cabin tryin to dry boots - drinkin no label whiskey - and tellin lies about game just out of range or so big you didn't have the heart to shoot it. All them big mail order places would have to close up and put all them telephone girls out of work. When nobody has an excuse to buy 4X4 pickup trucks, why all them mechanics will starve. What about all them little Mom and Pop country stores? You cut out the Sunday package sales on shootin match days - why they'd go broke fer sure. Yessir, outlawin our guns would be ever bit of a national emergency just like Al says... And besides, don't you figger, without them shootin irons, you'd have all that free time on hand - and you know how them wimmen like to fill up yer free time for you!
 

Well we got the message; in no uncertain terms, that we was expected to discharge our duty and prepare to defend all that which we hold near and dear. And I guess I do recollect a particle of the oath from years ago that went on somethin about "defending against enemies both foreign and domestic", so I guess the idea must have some merit. He never was too clear on where they was comm in from though. It sounded to me like he called em Liberals, so I figger it must be that bunch outta North Aferka. If we let them take over, they'll most likely have us all livin in tents and herdin camels. Can't say I mind livin in a lodge, but danged if I can go the smell of them camels... What I can't figger, is what they want with our guns. I seen stories on them people - they ain't much for marksmanship - seems they are right fond of bombs and such. Wouldn't think they'd have much use for our rifles. And another thing that bothered a bunch of us - how they figger to collect up all them guns? I got the drift that they was goin to ride hard on the US Military and the Federal lawdogs and get them to do the collectin. Now I don't know about you, but I ain't never seen a Federal with enough sand in his craw to walk into a Sunday shootin match and ask for a general surrender. I guess maybe they'd have to send a tank or somethin. Otherwise I believe they'd likely need a whole batch of new Federal guys you know
 

Onct old Al was sure we had the message, he took a breather while Bear Ash made a run to the truck for another jug of that Fugowee bore cleaner. That lawyer feller sure seems to like that stuff. Of course, as time goes on, the rest of us need a little nibble of it too, just so's we can understand the language he commences to speak. I hear him and a Pentecostal convert got together one time and like to wore each otherout!
 

'Bout time the second bunch of logs burnt down, Al got around to layin out the groundwork as he called it. Now first of all he says we all got to lay in a supply of A-salt weapons. I figured the way he was talkin, that a A-salt gun has to hold a whole bunch 0f shots, and fire real fast. Old Slack Jaw popped up and announced that he'd be right proud danged sure fire a whole bunch of shot at ....... Bear Ash volunteered his old war club, and allowed as how that had to be the original A-salt weapon - and I'm a mite inclined to agree with that. Of course there were all sorts of twict-barrel shotguns offered up. But old Al wouldn't have none of that. Says we got to go out and buy or trade for a bunch of Chinese Chainsaws.... Well right now you know Doc Farqstartter come up off'n his stump and bristled up somethin fierce in Al's face. "We done settled that chainsaw affair awhile back, and dammed if I can stand more of that fun. Besides, whatever happened to buying American? If we gotta get chainsaws, to hell with them Chinese, let's talk McCollock chainsaws" ... "Besides which, my woman already has a couple of good saws and I don't need no more...." Mr. Capon kinda backed off a mite, and crawfished a bit , and finally got Doc settled some. Guess he never give it a thought that none of us had ever come across that term afore. You see, he was talkin about some fancy military shootin iron they use to storm beaches in China and Yugoslowvakia and suchlike. Load that thing on Sunday and fire it all month , to hear him tell it.
 

Now I don't know all the particulars, but I guess to have a militia, you gotta have them Chainsaws. Seems a poor proposition to me, but Al says it has to be so. You gotta be able to shoot thirty or more shots right fast he says. And then we can take em to this gun mechanic over at Tequllia flats and we will doctor em up a bit so's they'll rip off 600 balls a minute or some ungodly sum. Of course they was immediate objections from all the assembly on that one. After all, it only takes a Freetrapper one shot to do the job don't it? Well not accordin to the militia. Ya gotta be ready to shoot the enemy at least fifteen or a dozen times just to be sure. Sounds like a waste of powder and shot to me. But if it has to be, then I guess we have to come up with some sort of A-salt gun. At least ways, Al says we do.
 

Now it don't take much of nothin to get us Freetrappers interested when it comes to shootin irons, but as the evenin wore on Al got into the particulars of the more commonplace aspects of this militia life. Right off the bat, he says we got to sign this "Charter" he got. Right impressive thing it were too. Looked quite a bit like them treatys I think. I figgered it was goin to be from the State House, but I don't know for sure that was ever mentioned in all that fancy writin. Anyways, onct we'd all signed up, he announced that this charter gave him the rank of Colonel and commander of the Coyote County Militia Company - and that made all of us his subordinates. Not too sure what that means, but the way he acts - I guess it means he has a personal memo from God All Mighty. Says we gotta do what he says and how he says it.... Seems like the Army all over again to me... Cloyd did raise a right good point though. He thought we all should take a vote on how to run the thing. Mr. Capon got a bit testy on that one: made it clear that in order for us to properly defend democracy, there weren't gonna be any dadblamed votin to speak of....
 

Oh my didn't he just go on and on. All sorts of them little nit pickin details like lawyers are so fond of. Gotta have a table of organization. Gotta have commissioned officers. Have to hire on one of the. publicity outfits. Gotta have orgainzed drills and manuvers. Gotta live in tents and eat cold undercooked vittles. And - by damn - we gotta salute him..... Several of the boys took objection to a lot of this chicken scratch. But like he says, "this is the militia, we're defendin democarcy, you ain't got a vote...."
 

Deke offered up a perfectly good table, iffin we'd help him slicky it away from his ex-wife. He didn't know just how "organized" it were, but it dammed sure was a sturdy table, and we was welcome to use it any way the militia wanted. And officers? Well we'd already had a belly full of officers, but we most all allowed as how we probly needed a Surgeon General. Hell, the Federals got one, so we might as well have one too. Slack Jaw was all fer draftin this Hillary gal. Guess she is some kind of authority on doctorin. Besides, she's got all these uniform kinda suits, so's we wouldn't have to outfit her, just hang a bunch of rendezvous medallions on her and it'd look about right. Now the choice of most of the group was of course Doc Farqstartter; seem as how he was supposed to be a real doc and all, and he was available - excepting Wednesdays and weekends and eighteen annual holidays. That choice caused some grousin from Cloyd of course, cause he ain't never forgive Doc for that slight he done to his nanny goat that time. But by an large, we figgered Doc was the choice, just in case we come up with problems on these manuevers. You get a bunch of boys runnin around in the woods playin soljer, you near gotta expect a few splinters and ditchins that might need a medic's attention. To say nothin of the usual campfire casualties. Why shoot, I've seen many a man do a "Flyin W" over the backside of a sittin log. Sometimes they'd even break the jug.... Yep, it'd be proper to have a Surgeon General on call in any man's militia. Ya just never can be too prepared you know. The onlyest objection I have, is all that paperwork we have to go through to square the deal with this College of Chiropractic as Doc calls it. Guess they don't usually license combat medics to hear him tell it.
 

Now the general equipment weren't no problem we thought. Most ever one had camp gear. Al held out at length for Army surplus dirt floor tents, and fifty year old radios, and beat up old alunium pans and such: but we finally convinced him the plains lodges and Bakers were near as good even if they weren't a one that matched the other. We'd even allow him to use that new fangled elecrtic day glow blue pop-m-up lodge he can't bring to rendezvous, which gripes his soul somethin awful). skinny allowed as how we wasn't to fret over any publicity. He'd just explain our situation to his mother'nlaw and tell her to keep it right quiet, military security and all why it'd be spread all over the state quicker'n a coon whippin a young dog And radios? What we need with them fifty pound sash weights? We send smoke, and we all know how to holler.... And near ever pickup truck has one of these CeeBee radidios in it. Personally, I reckon he just wanted Army radios so's he could use that fancy talk they have to have to make em work.
 

It were the matter of uniforms that got really got the assembly up in arms. Mr. Al was mighty stout in his demands for reglar army turkey huntin camyflage clothes. Now Slack Jaw don't hold with nothin concernin uniform anything. Guess that were a sore spot with him clear back to the time he was in the Army. Heap of bad memories there I take it. Thought for a minute he was gonna slap old Al up side the head. Fortunately, Slack wasn't none too steady on his feet at that moment - or on his knees either. Ya see, Slack is sort of rough around the edges. Always looks kinda like he walked by a ditch and the dirt jumped out and got em. He favors raggedy pants and huntin shirts what are real hard to tell the true color of. Not that he's poor for clothes you know. It's just that he don't hold with replacin things until they wear out - or fall off. Some folks think Slack looks about like he sorts bobcats for a livin.
 

Anyways, Bear Ash was in favor of buckskins, and Doc wanted joggin suits, and Cloyd wanted bib overhauls, an so on, an so on. Well, the upshot of all this carryin on was that we all disagreed to wear whatever the devil we wanted as long as we didn't have to starch it or press it or buy batteries for it......
 

I believe what really ended the evening (early morning) discussion, was the matter of the mess hall. Now anyone with a particle of sense knows an army marches on it's stomach; least that's what they keep tellin the soljers. So's the matter of rations was of some keen interest to all. Wasn't so much the provinder you know; for I reckon amongst The Group, there would be no lacking for meat shootin. But when Al got around to assignin cooks and KP, that was when the stuff really for sure hit the fan.. It's one thing to cook yer own, and no man turns away a traveler from his fire without offerin a bite to eat - but KP....? Nosir that just ain't in the blood of a Freetrapper. I guess what really brought the show down, was when Deke volunteered his missus to take care of the mess arrangements. Now I reckon it wouldn't a been much of nothin, except Deke made such a brag that he were obliged to make good on it. But then he up and staggers over to the pickup and shakes the wife awake. Oh Lordy............. It has been my considered observation over the years , that you best not wake up them wimmen from a sound sleep 'less you got sometin serious to offer.. . That's kinds like poken a denned up grizzly bar. Uf course onct she heard what Deke had volunteered her for, the wh6le show was over. I ain't heard such screechin and hollerin since the lady schoolteacher found a badger in her desk drawer Matter of fact, it reminded me some of a turpintined dog'. Guess that were Deke though. She dammed near took all the bark off him afore he could get away.... Then she come for us - meetin adjorned.
 

Some days had passed, and odd members of The Group had chanced to meet up here and there. Don't know that anything much had been accomplished since the meetin, but it sure did provide a topic for a heap of talk down at the combined gas station - feed store and billiards emporium. Didn't sound like we's makin much progress to tell the truth. Still didn't have no tents nor uniforms. Still didn't have no bullcook. Matter of fact, we still didn't have no A-salt guns neither. Beginnin to look like we didn't have much militia at all save for a Colonel and that treaty paper we had to sign. And we had tried on several gun mechanics, but weren't none of em had the wrenchs needed to work on them Chinese Chainsaws. The future of the Coyote County Militia looked mighty dim indeed.
 

For a time there, we thought Bear Ash had come up with a solution that would save our bacon. Now he's a right smart blacksmith, and an engineer ( steamtrain) , and him bein a medicine chief and all - well ya just gotta respect his abilities. He come up with this idea he got off this cable TV thing. Gotta hand it to them Fugowee: They are right smart in dealin with the goverment. They the onliest people in the county with this cable TV stuff. Someone in the Bureau of Indian Affairs and Porkbarrel Entitlements allowed as how they needed access to more educational opportunities, so lickety split here come a sattelite dish for the reservation. Guess when they flushed that outfit called NASA, all that high tech stuff was to be junked. Someone figured out that if the taxpayers originally paid 1.5 million dollars for this sattelite dish, then they could salvage it and give it to the reservation for a measly quarter million charged back to the taxpayers. Seems like a deal too good to pass up to me. Well anyways, this is some humdinger of a dish. Big sucker too. Near forty head of goats can rest in the shade of this thing. Powerful too. Not only gets TV from them Rooshin sputniks, but the thing puts out somethin called radiation that has taken care of the Fugowee population explosion accordin to Bear Ash. Howsomever; he come across this Eyetalian broadcast that had to do with A-salt weapons. Had him a hard copy of workin drawings and everthing. Seems this gun mechanic and part time house painter feller DaVinky whipped up this high capacity A-salt rifle for his boss. Looked like something we could get along with. Onct Bear had sketched out the general plan, it sure enough looked like a downhill pull from there. We might get this militia thing Off the ground after all.
 

Wasn't long afore we struck a stump though. Bear allowed as how he needed thirty muskets to work with. Tarnation, amongst all of us we didn't have but a few muskets. Shake everthing up in a bag, and we couldn't muster but maybe twenty-five shootin irons in various gauges and types Bad as I hate to admit it, Mr. Al Capon came through for us again. Guess he knows someone who knows the nephew of the chauffer what drives for this Washington of DC big deal feller. Some nice Jewish flatlander name of Schummer I think it was. I guess he has a line on a boatload of surplus muskets our goverment give to Spain back about Nineteen and aught two and recently bought back as a gesture of sound international trade and good will and he's willing to cash them out a dime on the dollar. 'Course, we ain't got much hard money in our warchest, and I reckon this Washington feller ain't too much interested in groundhog pelts. But where there's a will - there's a lawyer Al cut us a deal. I heard rumors, and I heard stories, - and I figgered I didn't really want to know what sort of trade took place - but we did get the muskets, and that's the important thing.
 

By-n-bye Bear did get our A-salt gun up and runnin, so we were officially in the Militia business for sure. Matter of fact, we scheduled the first monthly muster around the test firing of our weapon. well, it was quite a circus I tell you. They had us all gather up in a bunch and stand reasonable straight at attention while the officers saluted each other. Then they saluted that Charter, and each other again, and then they saluted Mr Schummer, and then they all decided they're arms was tired so we got to walk around in circles and squares for a spell. Must have been quite a spectacle for the crowd to see. Now for us, it was mostly a good deal uncomfortable. You ever try to march a formation over plowed ground? How about standing attention while a sweat bee crawls in yer ear? Shoot, they kept us standin there so long the ticks made it clear up to our sash belts.... But, I reckon it were generaly worth it, for eventually they got around to the grand prize. We was all goin to get to see the A-salt gun test fired. I suppose I should'a seem it comin. When they roped off the crowd back about a hundred yards, I guess that should have give us a hint. Come to study on it, I reckon they didn't trust that gun all that much.
 

But, we wasn't payin no never mind to practical things. The sun was warm, the ladies were all decked out in their Sunday skins, and we was proud as punch about them black sock caps. Bear did have a mite of trouble in gettin the truck started right off. Guess I failed to mention that. You see, we had to modify DaVinky's design a bit. Now you gotta figger this thirty barrel musket goes about 400 pounds or so, and there ain't no militia nowhere that can carry around a critter like that..... So we commshawed a '52 Studebaker truck to mount her on. Didn't look too bad either. Abe come up with some Army surplus paint, so's it was all dressed up in this pale blue-green genuine soljer paint. For all his raggedy looks, Slack is a fair hand at printin so he lettered her up with all the Coyote County Militia signs . Now she didn't run too good, and it was at times a real bearcat to get started; but onct we wired up them four big diesel truck batteries to her, it didn't matter much. She'd do near twenty miles an hour just on the starter alone... Can't say I hold with the idea, but Mr. Al put them whitewall tires on her too. It was an impressive piece of machinery I reckon.
 

The Colonel had made us put up a bunch of targets all over the primitive range . Claimed we had to learn to engage superior forces utilizing cover and concealment, or sumsuch damfool thing. So we had a whole batch of pasteboard targets all strung out in the woods, ready to let'er rip....
 

Bear Ash backed that Studybaker around so's to properly lay the guns onto the first set of "enemy", checked the caps, and announced with a smart salute that he was more'n ready to get this hoedown started. Mr. Al returned a right smart salute (onct he knocked off his sock cap, but the next one was a goodin. . . ), and announced in a real genuwine parade ground manner that Bear was to "Fire at Will". Bear looked a little confused, but turned to his task anyway. The first volly went off without a hitch. Tore the thunder out of a whole mess of them "enemy". Bear would reach around the breech and fire two or three of them muskets at nearly the same time - and went right on down the rows till ever gun come up empty. It were a site I tell you. Must'a took near thirty minutes for all that powder smoke to clear. And just like Al had ordered him - Old Bear was busy as a beaver just stokin up them guns as fast as he could ram a ball. Al kept yellin that he had to get the rounds per minute up a lot faster, so Bear finally tied ever two or three triggers together with a long thong. Whooeee - now that got the lead out.... Sounded kinda like a post shoot. But you know them Officer types. Al wasn't to be satisfyed. More powder, more shots, do it faster - this dadblamed thing is supposed to be an A-salt gun....
 

Well by now we had all pitched in to help reload, and Bear was movin fer all he was worth, even Doc got into the act and actually helped without askin fer a signed release. But there is an end to all men's patience you know. Finally Bear just up and wired all them thongs together into one big knot. Next time Al wanted him to fire at this Will guy -Bear just let her all fly at onct
 

From what I recollect of it - I do believe we managed to exceed that 600 shots a minute Al was campaignin for... and by a good margin! Guess the Presibeterians at the meetin hall just over the crick enjoyed it too, fer most of us seemed to hear a bunch of bells right after that. I think Colonel Al was pleased for the most part, but it were some time before we could get him to say much besides them Latin things lawyers are fond of when they's tryin to get out from under somethin. Purty soon we found most of them musket barrels (Bear is a right smart mechanical injuneer but he don't weld for sour owl doo) And it didn't take much more' n an hour to get the brush fires out, and in good time we did finally locate Bear Ash. He's out at the pickup truck tryin to suck the bottom outta one of them jugs. Now I don't claim to speak much Fugowee, but I got the drift that Bear ain't in no humor to engage in any more rapid fire drills.... Least not until he grows some hair back.
 

It was a grand day indeed, but I reckon if'n you shake it all up in a bag - the Coyote County Militia came out on the short end of the stick. We lost our Charter you know. Al took it with him, and last we heard he had that Buick wound up an headed for Michigan. Well without that treaty, what was we to do? Of course we didn't have an A-salt gun neither no more. They was some small talk about tryin to call Mr Schummer for some more barrels - but from what I hear, his office claimed he was a flake now - or a sellin cornflakes - or some dammed thing. Anyhow he didn't have no more muskets for trade and would we please not bother to call him no more... less'en we had some real serious trade goods to offer. Since we's at the moment slap out of lawyers and commissioned officers, I figgered we might as well get ahold of this Attorney General they advertise so highly. That was pretty much of a bust. Spent near't a day on the telyphone afore I finally got this gal on the line. Right off, I decided this was not the guy we needed. First off, this Attorney ain't no general - not by a country Mile. This Missus Attorney Reno didn't know the first blamed thing about Militia stuff. And then - this female ain't no lady attorney or not.... I ain't never in my born days heard any lady talk like ....... What the devil would she have again the National Recovery Administration? So like I said; I figger the whole deal was pretty much a bust.
 

So's here we sit. No leadership, no tents to speak of, no A-salt gun, all of Bear's jugs empty, and blamed near no powder and shot left. Looked kinda like a long dry spell ahead for the Militia company. Sorta come in with a whimper and went out with a bang, so to speak.
 

Guess it did sort of sober us up some though. Surely weren't much pickin and grinnin around the fire that night for sure. About three logs into the evenin, Doc stood up and announced he had the solution Then he picked hisself up and leaned on a tree. Seems he had heard of somethin called a Political Action Committee. Kinda like a Militia of voters instead of shooters I s'pose. Wouldn't need no special Army surplus gear. Didn't have to march and salute no more. We could even keep them sock caps if'n we wanted. In fact 'bout the onlyest thing we had to have was some gumption and a voter card. Seems that ever onct on awhile, they put on a circus down at the Fire Stations, the schools, the State House, and even at that Outhouse in D and C; and they vote on people to represent the other people and make laws fer them. Best of all, he said the Constitution we're all set to defend, gives each man jack of us a vote. So we all get to have a say in how we act a fool... Long as there ain't a shootin match gets in the way of these elections, I believe this is a deal too good to pass up Only problem I can see, is that to outvote them hippies we freetrappers has got to outnumber 'em. Either that, or we got to buy more congressmen than they do; and I understand them Senators look a bit down their nose at perfectly good skins and beads.... Since we ain't flush with hard money, I don't know fer sure how best to compete with them Liberals - it's said they have got the finest politicians money can buy.....! But I do know this much: The least work is the best idea. If'n we can take one day onct in awhile and just do this votin thing; then that has got to be a heap easier than all this marchin and salutin - an tryin to get them dammed chainsaws to shoot
 

So ends the chronicles of the regrettably short but honorably served organization of the Coyote County Militia. Having come up with a suitable solution to this temporary problem, we must move on to other such irritants to our fellow man. I hear there is folks bein put out of jobs here just so's that feller Slick can suck up to them Messicans...... And then there's this other fruitloop over in Irack - this Saddam Hoser, what keeps grabbin our boys and throwin rocks at all them nice people around him........... Sounds tolerable like problems tailor made for the Loose Group to study on I reckon.
 

Shinin times y'all

Kindly regards from all the Loose Group - and "Two Blankets"
Written by Fred Haggard aka Two Blankets and is © 1995

Email:Two Blankets

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