The dusky chaparral sun slanted under the brim of Skoogy Lee Goobins’ cowboy hat, forcing him to squint meaningfully into the middle distance. He spurred his piebald mare forward toward the town that bore his name.
The town of Skoogy Goobins had been founded by Skoogy’s great-aunt Koogy, just about diggity-three years ago now. Koogy had named it after the infant Skoogy in a fit of alcohol-fueled fancy that doomed her chances of winning the annual Texas Town Naming Rodeo up in Amarillo. She did win several years later for a small village she established and named after Azealia Banks, the future rap star.
Skoogy sidled into town with the alacrity that can only be mustered by those who know what the word ‘alacrity’ actually means. He had made it to town eight days ahead of schedule. Why he let that piebald mare make out the schedule, he never could figure out. It had been wildly inaccurate throughout their four-month, fourteen-mile journey home.
He hopped off his horse and tied it up in front of the local saloon. It was a thriving concern that went by the name of Saloon. Skoogy pushed his way through the door and into the hillbilly hurly-burly within. He edged his way through the crowd of filth-strewn miners and oily-haired prostitutes and found the bar.
“I’ll have a Ramshackle Rosie, with three olives,” Skoogy declared. The bartender sighed angrily and went to work making the drink.
“Wait,” interrupted Skoogy, “Let’s round up and make it four olives.”
With that, the bartender quickly drew a six-gun from a hidden pocket in his eye-catching paisley vest. “We don’t like them there Rosie-drinkers and we sure as shootin’ don’t like no roundin’ up!” he shouted in a ridiculous simulation of Old West gibberish. He fired four times into Skoogy’s chest.
Skoogy sloppily flopped to the floor and clutched his bleeding torso, the life draining out of him onto the urine-and-blood stained wooden planks beneath him. The bartender loomed over him. “That was a long way to go for not much of a joke,” he said wearily.
Skoogy coughed, “That’s what they said about Titanic, and it won best picture!”
Skoogy Lee Skoogy Lee he rode his horse across the sea.
Skoogy Lee Skoogy Lee his chaps were always soaked with pee.
His legend grows like a horse that bucks
And he reminds us all that Titanic sucks.
(eyes watering, laughing out loud); the absurd element is SO high; “He had made it to town eight days ahead of schedule” and “It was a thriving concern that went by the name of Saloon” are two of my faves… you should bring LYLE back for a spin sometime on popwell, no?