Took Irene almost a week
to find a bikini to show off her new tattoo.
She loved that green Dragon
on her right butt-cheek,
Wings up, tail curlin' down behind.
Fit perfect between
the front panel and rear thong
just below the string.
Named 'im Puff.
Spent days smilin' sideways at the mirror,
and layin' by the apartment pool.
One more reason for the men
to argue with their wives.
Irene couldn't see why they got so upset,
she was a Baptist, too.
Joe got to Amarillo about two o'clock
on Thursday. Thought he'd melt down
into his own boots on that long stretch
of nothin' between Springer and Clayton,
three hundred sixty degrees of thunderstorms
all the way out on the edge of the world,
some of 'em looked like comin' his way.
Rode straight to the Blue Front
and ordered a pitcher of Coors.
His throat was dry, and his ass hurt,
so he just leaned against a post
under the verandah, and took a few pulls
before he even looked around.
Zat chew, Joe?
Sure enough, there stood Dirty Tom,
eyin' his jacket.
Said' "Shit, man! You ruined my leather!"
Joe smiled, said "Good to see you too, DT.
Yup new linin', pockets back on, and
look at my buttons!"
DT mumbled himself back to his table,
"Took me nearly twelve years to break that coat in,
'Bout that time Joe looked over
at the pretty red string tied
across a nicely tanned back,
figured he'd been standin' long enough..
He played it cool, said, "Irene Raintree,
well, I'll be damned."
She smiled back, "come on over here
and sit down, you big ole turd, got somethin'
to show ya."
He did, and kissed her right there under
her cowboy hat.
Joe stayed through Sunday
findin' out everything there was to know
about Puff the Magic Dragon.
Joe thought he would make it
to Oklahoma city, but pulled off
at the Weatherford exit to see Calvin.
Calvin was another Ted Nugent
but without the hair.
Sold all his cattle around Dallas,
bought a plasma cutter
and sculpted sheets of steel
into cowboy sillouettes.
You can see 'em leaning against
restaurants and gates all over the place.
But, for fun, Calvin hunts.
So when Joe showed up,
they had a coupla beers,
got the bow, and that's what they did.
Calvin said, "A big ol' boar's
been tearin' around my back forty,
let's go get 'im.
Probably goes three hundred fifty pounds."
So, they got in the truck
and bounced their way
through the stumps and rocks
till they got as close as they dared,
killed the engine, and went lookin'."
About an hour later,
that old hog came wandering out
from behind a pile of dead trees
and started rootin' around.
Joe stayed back while Calvin snuck
down the slope to get a shot,
stood slowly while drawin' back,
took aim and let 'er fly.
Problem is, pigs are dumber than rocks.
Here's this hog, arrow through the heart,
and instead of dyin', just got pissed off;
Saw Calvin and charged.
Joe'd never seen a white boy
run so fast.
Calvin never saw three hundred fifty pounds
of dead meat run so fast.
With those tusks wagglin' at his boot heels,
Calvin jumped up on a stump
and that hog went at it.
Tearin' off chunks of rotten wood
while Calvin nocked another arrow.
Both of 'em were half way through
when the pig dropped.
Joe spent three more days with Calvin
eatin' barbecue and drinkin' beer.
And laughing about the whole idea.