Leo, You know why preachers kids are so bad? 'Cause they're only allowed to play with the deacon's children!
OUTHOUSING
by Hilma (Volcano) Volk
Fred had gone to the outhouse.
He'd been there for quite some time.
Now and then I heard a moan and groan,
And I knew that the moment was prime.
In these mountains of Montana
There are black and grizzly bear,
Coyotes, pumas, and wolverines;
Plus moose in rut can give a scare.
It was already dark, I dressed in black.
I took a stick and began to dig,
Making rootin' noises outside the door
While snortin' like a pig.
Then like a creature with sharp claws,
I scratched on the outhouse wood.
Not a sound was heard within.
I knew I was gettin' him good.
Then I shook that little building
With all the strength that I could muster.
Fred hollered, "Hey, get out of here."
I thought, 'This will fix you, Buster!'
For all the pranks Fred's played on me,
I was evenin' up the score.
I started banging on the walls.
My goodness, how he swore.
Then scratching most ferociously,
I let loose my fiercest growl.
I heard splats plopping in the depths,
Toilet paper rolling on the dowel.
Scared the you know what out of him
I kind of let out a snicker.
I knew I'd given myself away.
He yelled, "Gal, if that ain't the kicker!"
He stormed from that one holer.
Oh, I feared his consternation.
"Gal, I'd be madder than heck,
But you cured my constipation."