All in differing degrees of incorrect.
Pecos Bill started out life much like any other baby boy in the 1830s/40s. Parents. Birth. Packing up. Joining a wagon train.
Unbeknownst to his parents, Billy exited the family wagon along the Oregon Trail somewhere between Kansas and Idaho. Near a coyote family.
Who saw the baby, not as food (as would have happened in any other story), but as a welcome and beloved addition.
In no time, Bill was playing with his coyote brothers and sisters and, as those baby legs lengthened, hunting with the pack.
We aren’t exactly sure where or when he met up with men and/or civilization, but we are fairly certain he must have.
Because, based solely on observation, he adapted local flora and fauna as a substitute for such things as: lassos. A whip. Friends.
His horse was a maniacal thing known as The Widow-maker. With a notch on its bridle for numerous hapless victims across Texas.
Bill was known for many and varied feats of strength and skill. Using only home grown and cleverly adapted implements, no less.
When the area of Texas he called home was plagued by drought, Bill handily roped/pulled a giant cloud in. From California.
On a dare, he roped (you have to know said ‘rope’ was actually a ‘snake’.) a tornado. With spectacular results.
Using his wits and a sharpened stick, he carved the Rio Grande. Mind you, I’ve seen that river. ‘Grand’ in name only.
At some point, he laid his eyes on Sue. Or Slew-Foot Sue as she came to be known. I know. I know.
‘Slew’ because she lived near one? Or because her feet stank? The origin of that image-inducing moniker has (rather fortunately) been lost.
And this is where our story starts… Soooo…Bill and Sue met. Bill was smitten. We’re not sure about Sue. We’re assuming.
In an effort to impress Sue, Bill demonstrated his not-unremarkable skills with a revolver. By shooting out all the stars. Except one.
Which became known as the Lone Star of Texas. What better way to say ‘I love you forever’ than destroying something romantic?
Okay, it wouldn’t impress me one iota. Sue? Finally, she was smitten. I guess it’s true that there’s literally someone for everyone…
A wedding date was set. And Sue had two requests: To ride to the service on Widow-Maker. And to wear a bustle.
Bill, ever ready to please, agreed to both. Handing her his charge card--or something similar--he told her she had ‘carte blanche’.
The day of the wedding dawned clear. If the weather had been ‘iffy’, Bill simply would have looped something and changed it.
Sue, elegantly dressed in the aforementioned bustle, climbed aboard Widow-Maker. I imagine the first few paces went…well. Sadly, the following steps…didn’t.
Widow-maker, true to his name, began to get…twitchy. And anxious to rid himself of his burden in his ‘horsey’ way. Bucking was indicated.
Something Sue was well-equipped to handle. Except that Sue was wearing that wretched—what idiot thought these were attractive? —bustle. (see above)
The bustle started to bounce. Higher. Higher. Maintaining her seat became difficult. Then more difficult. Then almost impossible. Then completely impossible.
Finally, Sue lost her not inconsiderable grip. Like a scene out of a B movie, she was launched high into the air.
Coming back to earth proved painfully problematic. Widow-Maker having abandoned her, she hit the ground with great force. And absolute zero protection.
Then bounced back up with all the force of a tightly-strung woman’s undergarment. You have to admit—a great potential for power.
Each time she hit the ground, she bounced back up with increased force. It wasn’t long before her trajectory was looking…moon-like.
Fortunately, her beau knew something about stopping an object on the move. Stepping calmly to the fore, he swung his lariat (snake).
On her next bounce, he deftly snagged his beloved and quickly and neatly put a stop to Slew-Foot Sue’s wild ride.
In no time, she was cuddled safely in her husband-to-be’s arms. The marriage followed quickly. As did Widow-Maker’s stern and forceful lecture.
Bill and his precious Sue then proceeded to live happily
ever after—raising a whole passel of daring young men and women.
Okay, okay, I know you’ve heard other variations of this story. All told with verve and candor. Admit it. Mine is better.
It was chosen by: Karen!
Links to the other Word Counters posts:
BakingIn ATornado
Messymimi’sMeanderings
I admit it, yours is WAY better (and can I say, especially the tornado part?).
ReplyDeleteWow. Well somewhere in there, I bet something like that did happen. Those early 1800's were wild! Laurie
ReplyDeleteOf course your version is better.
ReplyDeleteI had never heard this story before so it's the absolute best variation for here.
ReplyDeleteHa, yours are always better - or, at least, different. This is both!
ReplyDeleteYes, yours is always better, and i enjoyed this one immensely!
ReplyDelete