Read Giggle Book Four Page 4


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  Giggle Book Four

  A Loss for Words

  “Hey, dude,” said Hound-dog as he approached his best friend, Cooty Scratch Carter, as he was putting his fishing gear in the bed of his pickup truck. “Give me five,” yelled Hound-dog.

  “Hey, man,” replied Cooty. “What’s going on, brother?”

  “Ah, nothing, man, I just thought I would come over and see what’s happening with you,” said Hound-dog.

  “I thought I might get a little fishing in today. Hey, man, do you want to come along with me?” asked Cooty.

  “Sure, that’ll be cool, man. I haven’t been fishing in years,” replied Hound-dog. “You sure have some neat fishing gear, Cooty.”

  “What it is, Hound-dog. You are my main man. Give me five. Yeah, that’s what I’m talking about. You are definitely what’s happening,” said Cooty.

  “Peace, brother,” replied Hound-dog.

  They slipped into the pickup truck and Cooty cranked it up. He put it in gear and they took off down the road. Both of them were slouched down in the seat and leaned over with their elbows on the center console. They had the radio as loud as it would go. As they chug-a-lugged off to the creek, Cooty’s afro blew in the wind and Hound-dog’s big foot was propped upon the dash.

  “Hey, man. I love that song. You know what I mean, Cooty,” said Hound-dog.

  “Yeah, me, too, I know where you’re coming from,” replied Cooty.

  As they disappeared out of sight, in the far off distance, the pickup truck backfiring could be heard over the sound of the radio.

  “Like, Cooty, where are we headed, brother?” asked Hound-dog.

  “Well, Hound-dog, my main man, I sort of thought we would hang out at Swamp Creek. I caught the word from my brother that it is a cool place to fish.”

  “Cool, man,” replied Hound-dog. “Let’s go for it.”

  “There’s the road right there,” said Cooty. “My brother said to turn down Buttermilk Hollow, go about three miles and turn off on Wade Road at Hog Back Bridge. He said I could fish off the bridge.”

  “Wow, man,” exclaimed Hound-dog. “That should be fun!”

  The fishing gear in the back of the pickup truck bounced up in the air after they hit a pothole. As the pickup truck bounced up and down, Cooty’s and Hound-dog’s heads hit the ceiling of the truck.

  “Ouch, brother,” said Hound-dog. “Don’t you think you need to slow down a little? You act like this thing’s got wings on it.”

  “No, man, I got this under control,” replied Cooty.

  “Well, I have to admit, it is kind of fun,” stated Hound-dog.

  About that time, the pickup truck backfired again. Bang, pop, bang, pop went the pickup truck as it rolled on down the road with a cloud of dust behind it.

  “Hang on, brother. We are almost there. Just chill out!” cried Cooty. “I’m about to bring this thing in for a landing.”

  “Man, this ride is totally awesome,” cried Hound-dog with his head stuck out the window. “Aiyee,” he yelled as he made faces.

  Suddenly, Cooty slammed on the brakes. The pickup truck slid from side to side in the loose gravel. Cooty and Hound-dog looked at each other. They both swallowed quick and hard before they whispered a little prayer. Finally, the truck came to a screeching halt with gravel flying everywhere and dust hovering in the air. The hacking coughs of the two wild renegades could be heard from within the hovering dust.

  “What it is, my man,” coughed Cooty.

  “Yeah, what it is,” replied Hound-dog. “I think you were going a little too fast.”

  “Aw, man, I wasn’t going that fast,” replied Cooty.

  “There it is,” cried Cooty once the dust finally cleared. “There’s the bridge. Come one, Hound-dog, let’s get the fishing gear.”

  Cooty and Hound-dog walked to the back of the pickup truck to get the fishing gear.

  “Cooty,” Hound-dog said as he looked in the bed of the pickup truck.

  “What’s up, man?” asked Cooty.

  “You’ve lost half of your fishing gear,” replied Hound-dog.

  “Say what! What’d you say, man?” cried Cooty as he looked in the bed of the pickup truck. “Man, I’m not believing this,” he moaned as he stomped his feet and shook his head.

  “Well, you didn’t lose everything, Cooty. There’s one cane pole, a rod and reel left.”

  “Aw, man,” cried Cooty. “I just bought that stuff the other day.”

  “Really, dude. Do you want to go back and look for it?” asked Hound-dog.

  “No, man, let’s get some fishing done. I’ll worry about that stuff later. But, you do have to admit, that ride was out of this world. Don’t you agree,” Cooty stated.

  “It sure was, Cooty,” replied Hound-dog. “It was groovy, real groovy. Come on, man, let’s go fishing,” said Hound-dog. “We’ll pick up the other fishing gear on our way back.”

  “What did you say, Hound-dog? Did you say we’d pick it up on the way back? Yeah, right. That’s if there’s anything left.”

  “Chill out, brother,” said Hound-dog. “Don’t worry it. I’m sure it will still be there. Come on, let’s do some fishing.”

  “Dude, I hope you’re right,” mumbled Cooty.

  “Come on, man,” motioned Hound-dog.

  “Alright, you jive turkey,” replied Cooty. “I’m coming.”

  Slowly, they made their way over to the bridge and sat down with their feet dangling off the side.

  “Wow, man. How high up are we?” asked Hound-dog.

  “I don’t really know, dude,” replied Cooty. “But, we are high enough. Look at those big hog suckers down below us, Hound-dog,” said Cooty.

  “Far out, Cooty, my man,” stated Hound-dog. “Are you going to try to catch them?”

  “You got it, brother. I am the man,” replied Cooty.

  Cooty picked up his cane pole with a grab hook on the end, swung it out from the bridge and into the water. He waited patiently for a nibble on his line.

  “What’s up, brother!” yelled Hound-dog.

  “Shhh, be quiet, man,” replied Cooty. “You’re going to scare the fish away.”

  About that time, Cooty’s line jerked. He had caught one of the hog suckers.

  “Cool, man!” yelled Hound-dog as Cooty pulled the hog sucker in.

  “I told you I was the man,” cried Cooty.

  “It’s a fish. It’s a fish, my brother,” laughed Hound-dog. “You are the man.”

  “You won’t do,” giggled Cooty. “You just won’t do.”

  Cooty slid another worm onto the hook. When Cooty swung the line around, the worm fell off onto the bridge. Zoom flew the line down toward the creek. Clu-thump it went when it landed on the creek bed.

  “But…but…but,” said Hound-dog.

  “No buts about it, brother. Just take it and be ready when a fish bites on it.”

  “But…but…but,” Hound-dog tried to say

  Shhh,” cried Cooty. “I want to snag some more hog suckers. If you don’t be quiet, I’m not going to bring you again.”

  “Can you believe it, man?” yelled Cooty when his line snatched another hog sucker. “Alright, it’s just like my brother told me. Check this baby out,” he said as he held up the hog sucker.

  “But…but…but,” cried Hound-dog.

  “Oh, I know, man. You don’t have to tell me,” said Cooty. “I have caught two fish and you haven’t even got a nibble. What it is. What it is,” Cooty chuckled.

  Hound-dog tried to reel in his line but Cooty stopped him.

  “Come on, man, you have to leave it out there for a while,” explained Cooty. “Catch my drift, brother. Like, man, I’ve got a real feel for that spot. Yeah, man, that spot right there.”

  “But…but…,” mumbled Hound-dog.

  As the day went on, Cooty piled the hog suckers up and poor old Hound-dog couldn’t even get a nibble on hi
s empty hook. And he couldn’t get a word in edgewise either because Cooty was too busy bragging about his catch or fussing and complaining about his lost fishing gear. Every time Hound-dog tried to reel his line in, Cooty would stop him. He’d make him lay it down and wait.

  “I’m trying to take care of you, brother,” Cooty explained. “Haven’t I always taken care of you, my man? Be patient; I’ve got a real feel for that spot. You watch, my man, and see if old Cooty doesn’t come through for you. Yeah, brother, give me five.”

  “But…but…but,” cried Hound-dog.

  “Don’t try to thank me, man. Just wait until your big catch comes in.”

  Hound-dog just dropped his head. He didn’t know what to say or do. He was at a loss for words. He decided the best thing for him to do was shut up, be still and wait. So, he did.

  After a while, Cooty looked over at Hound-dog and said, “Hey, dude, what’s your problem? You don’t have anything to say to me?” asked Cooty. “I hope you’re not mad because I caught all the fish?”

  Hound-dog just sat with his head down and shook it from side to side.

  “Say something!” shouted Cooty. “After all I have done for you; you’re going to treat me this way. We have been friends for years, man, and you do me like this. Ooh, you jive turkey.”

  “But…but…but,” replied Hound-dog.

  “Oh no, my man, don’t start that again. That’s all you have said since I cast your line out,” said Cooty. “Don’t you know any other words besides but? Ooh wee, brother, I just snatched another one,” bragged Cooty. “You need to get a little life about you, Hound-dog. Put some pep in your step. Eat a little soul food. Cheer up, brother! Get some life in them old bones,” Cooty chuckled as he danced about the bridge. “It’s time to get down, get down. Hey, Hound-dog, since you’re in such a bad mood why don’t we blow this joint and go get something to eat? Maybe that will cheer you up. Hold on, brother. I think you got a bite,” Cooty said as he ran over and jerked the rod out of Hound-dog’s hands.

  “But…but…but,” Hound-dog said.

  “Will you shut up, man,” screamed Cooty. “Come on, Hound-dog. I’ve had enough fishing for one day,” Cooty said with frustration. “Man, no wonder you haven’t caught anything, Hound-dog” said Cooty. “You have let the fish eat all your bait, duh!”

  “But…but…but,” replied Hound-dog.

  “Oh come on, man,” motioned Cooty. “I don’t want to hear it.”