Free Writing means you can read these Hopalong Clyde stories for free, I guess.
Methinks I've been sending these things wrong. I've sent five of the Hopalong Clyde stories to the Relationships Topic. This was because the more appropriate "Free Writing" topic is under the inappropriate heading of "Nothing to do with narkleupsy and you know it." I hereby change my mind and you will have to excuse the fact that narkleupsy is prominently featured in these yarns. I will pick up right here with the sixth story and I will make a whole new topic for each additional little story. So watch out! This might take up a lot of space if I send all of the remaining bunch. Howsomever, some of them aren't so good and I may not send them at all.
You'll need to know that Hopalong Clyde, retired narcoleptic cowboy and songwriter, lives in the Mountain House desert with his narcoleptic Doberman, Adobe (from Stanford) and his delicious Significant Other, Pretty Baby.
Somebody let me know if I'm doing good.... or not.
The Legend Of Really Sleepy Hollow
At Michael's Bar and Grill in Fort Mudge, two guys were loudly discussing a frightening experience they'd had. RaeDean was working that night and heard all about it and told it all to Pretty Baby. Those guys said, in all seriousness, there was this humongous, ghostly rifleman out there in the desert that tried to shoot them dead and only barely missed. There was some sort of Monster from Hades with him also. But then, "Poof" they both disappeared. Gone. These boys said that last evening they were just minding their own business, messing around in the desert, and didn't know exactly where they were except there was this little house that had an old EDSel out front.
Well, we know where they were! That's Clyde's car. And so I asked Clyde if he knew anything about them.
"Pee shaw! It wasn't evenin', it was two Afore Morning and I know what their business was. That EDSel is the only car within twenty miles that still has it's hubcaps."
Adobe (the narcoleptic dog) had gotten Clyde's attention, saying there was something wrong out there. Clyde put on his sheepskin coat, c'boy hat and his make-um-tall boots, grabbed the Winchester and out they went. All he needed to do was follow Adobe's nose but then he made a mistake by coming too fast over the flat lava rock. There were two men down the slope. Too late, Clyde realized that he was exposed, up high with the moon at his back.
"I might as well of put a spotlight on me and hollered "Here I am!" I knew they was going to run and then I'd never know who they were or what they'd stolen. I just wanted to stop 'em."
Pretty Baby says that RaeDean says that they said the Ghostly Rifleman was about nine feet tall, all bulgy muscle on top and standing on toothpick legs. Clyde says,"Yeah that coat poofs me out quite a bit".
And the critter he had with him was like..... well, remember that thing in Ghostbusters? Big in front and sloped down like a hyena. It had no tail but about a hundred teeth and it was just pacing back and forth. Clyde said, "Adobe wanted to go get 'em but he was keepin' his peace like I wanted him to do".
So Clyde and I went for a little walk over to the flat lava rock. Clyde showed me how it happened and the places where the bullets went:
"First they ran to the left and KaPow! I splintered this rock right in front, so they ran the other way and KaBlooie! I dug this hole right where somebody's foot was headin' so they ran down toward Seepy Hollow (not "Sleepy" but "Seepy" where the mud hole is). I sent a bullet right in between their heads so they would feel the heat of it as it passed. That's when they stopped!"
"Then I said "GOTCHA!" and this was another mistake! Yup, I had a full body C attack right there, and Adobe thought I said "Get 'em!" and he knew he'd catch those guys so danged fast and easy that ..... Yup, C attack. Adobe fell right beside me. At least we was keeping each other warm!"
Those two boys must have turned around, probably with their hands in the air, and looked up the slope and there was nothing there! Nobody. Total quiet. Spooky as Nell.
Clyde and I looked around at the scuffle marks and stuff and then he said, "Wal, Mr. Injun, you see anything that I don't?"
I said, "Looky here. One of those guys peed his pants."
"Har har murph mmff" and collapsed and it took me some time to get him vertical again. I was saying that, jeez, it wasn't all that funny and howscome did it put him down like that?
"Oh, oh. I been lurking on the Inner Net and they've been talking about how their C attacks can scare people half to death. But I bet they never made nobody wet their pa...... murphh mmph" Plop!
I said, "Dang it Clyde! Stop that. You can't spend all day down there in the rabbit poop." This made him worse.
I want to tell you about our trip back up the slope, but I'll break it up right here and send the rest of it later. This way, if you find these things too lengthy or cataplectic, you can skip it.
Reporting from Fort Mudge, Idaho
The Legend Of Really Sleepy Hollow
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