Found a bing today that actually had a veggie burger dragged through Wisconsin. Mr. C. Cow was able to order a lovely coke pie and a hot blond in the sand. The soup jockey was really nice to us and didn’t seem to mind that someone (I’m not saying who) kept putting his hoofs on the table. At least that not named individual remembered to wear a bib. I made sure we left a really large tip. Didn’t want to be a George Eddy.
Since we had been driving for hours that day I thought it was only fair to put a few coins in the jukebox for Mr. C. Cow so he could do a bit of dancing. I sat at the counter and had a beetles blood with a ball of fire. One of the barn stormers came over and did a bit of the ol’ jitterbug with the little cow. This might be the first time I’ve ever seen someone with hoofs jitterbug.
When the music was over and before I found my back teeth afloat I paid the bank and waved goodbye to all of the base runners. I did have to promise Mr. C. Cow that if we were ever back that way again I would let him try the mama on a raft. He sure is a bean buster!
Location: The Diner (M)
If You Want To Figure Out All That Diner Speak We Used Then Check Out The Website “Diner Lingo“! I italicized all of the lingo for easy reference.
Mr. C. Cow was just a drugstore cowboy. Always looking for a dolled up dame with nice gams.
Tipsy was out giving the bum rush to some hood causing trouble at the juice joint.
Today we visited a private investigators office to figure out what happen to Mr. C. Cow’s apple pie. A detective made the lil cow feel better about finding out who swiped the pie. It made me constantly want to speak in 1920’s slang.
The pie had been cooling on the camper window when it went missing. All that was left was a few crumbs and a brown feather. There are three things in this world that can make a cow cry uncontrollably. Soap operas, missing baked goods, and finding go-go boots that will fit a cow hoof. The crying lasted for hours and I couldn’t take it anymore. That’s how we ended up with me speaking in 1920’s slang in an investigators office.
The detective was very understanding and wiped away those sad cow tears. While I read a magazine they deducted that the pie was stolen by Mr. C. Cow’s duck friend “Quackers”. Quackers had an issue with food boundaries and had been getting help for quite sometime. Looks like Quackers had fallen off the wagon! There was much apologizing, forgiving, and promising of future pies.
I wonder if this is the first time this detective has had to deal with missing pies, cows, ducks, and an otter speaking 1920’s slang.
Location: Alva Investigations (M)