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Writer's picturemarkmiller323

Cal.E.'s Korner





Who's gonna ride that chrome three wheeler

Who's gonna make that first mistake

Who wants to wear those gypsy leathers

All the way to Fire Lake

Who wants to break the news about uncle Joe

You remember uncle Joe

He was the one afraid to cut the cake

Who wants to tell poor aunt Sarah

Joe's run off to Fire Lake

Joe's run off to Fire Lake

Who wants to brave those bronze beauties

Lying in the sun

With their long soft hair falling

Flying as they run

Oh they smile so shy

And they flirt so well

And they lay you down so fast

Till you look straight up and say

Oh Lord

Am I really here at last

Who wants to play those eights and aces

Who wants a raise

Who needs a stake

Who wants to take that long shot gamble

And head out to Fire Lake

Head out

Who wants to go to Fire Lake

And head out

Who wants to go to Fire Lake

And head out (who wants to go to Fire Lake)

Head out, head out (who wants to go to Fire Lake)

Out to Fire lake

Who's gonna do it (who wants to go to Fire Lake)

Who's gonna wanna do it (who wants to go to Fire Lake)

Who wants to do it, who wants to do it, yeah (who wants to go to Fire Lake)

Source: LyricFind

Songwriters: Bob Seger

Fire Lake lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC




d.: Buddy Bones, how would you like to triple the money that Meow Z. Tongue owes you?



BB.: Rokay. 


d.: All you must do is defeat Cal.E., her thirty-third cousin twice removed, and me in a friendly game of Poker.


BB.: Rexas Rold'em?


d.: Sure, we can play that unfamiliar game to the three of us. I only have one condition. I’d like to have T deal the cards for each hand.


BB.: Re Ruxedo?


d.: Um, sure. The Tuxedo.



BB.: Rokay. Ret’s play.


After two hours of Texas Hold’em, Buddy Bones hasn’t won one hand.


d.: (Buddy Bones is up to something. No one is this bad at any game, or anything else.)

“Well, I’ve drunk too much water. I need to see a man about a horse.”



C.: Excuse me?


d.: I need to take a whiz, okay?


C.: Oh, okay, go ahead.


d.: I said, I NEED TO TAKE A WHIZ.


C.: Oh, right. ELAC and I need to visit the sandbox as well. We’ve been playing Poker for two hours straight without a sandbox break. As y’all know, queen cats always go to the sandbox together.



E.: We do? This planet has some strange customs, but okay.


C.: Okay, d.c., what did you want to talk about?


d.: I think that Buddy Bones is up to something. I saw him fold with an ace in the hole. I think he’s trying to throw the game. The question is “Why”? And Cal.E., I think you and  your husband, Tucker Tucker Two, a.k.a. The Cat Fighter Formerly Known As The Tuxedo (who really needs a shorter nickname) Now Simply Known As T Because Triple T Was Already Taken might need to talk. He’s dealing you cards off the bottom of the deck.


C.: Okay, why is that concerning? We want to win, don’t we? And how do you know that Buddy Bones had an ace in the hole? Do you know how to count cards?


d.: No, not really. That’s just watching carefully and using deduction, which is what I did. All the other aces were accounted for, and there were no more cards in the deck, since we’re playing continuously with the same deck of cards.

Counting cards is a sore subject with me, though.


C.: Why?


C.: Because, if someone is really good at a sport and hones that skill, s/he may become good enough  that s/he may be asked to join a professional team. If someone is smart enough to devise a system to overcome the odds and win at gambling, s/he is often  (not so politely) asked to leave the premises of the casino and may be banned for life.

Anyway, I suspect that you’re holding two aces down.


C.: How did you know that, d.c.?


d.: Because there’s two eights up in the flop.


C.: And?


d.: That’s what’s known as a Dead Man’s Hand.


C.: What’s that?


d.: Well, according to Wikipedia (n.d.) “a pair of aces and eights, along with an unknown hole card, were reportedly held by Old West folk hero, lawman, and gunfighter Wild Bill Hickok when he was murdered while playing a game.”


C.: So, why do T and I need to talk?


d.: …N..N...Never mind. I just want to see what Buddy Bones is up to.


BB.: (This is strange. Why did all three of them get up and go potty at the same time? I suspect that they’re up to something, but what? I know, they all drank too much water while traying to trick me into losing. I’m glad my water bowl is empty. And why do I talk like a dog and think like a human? Weird.)


Later that same night


BB.: Rell, it’s rate and me tired, so I gives up. Y’all are just too good at this game for me, and I’m tapped out. The one-hundred dollars Meow Z. Tongue owes me is forgiven…

T.& d.: ONE HUNDRED DOLLARS?! THAT’S ALL YOU OWE BUDDY BONES?


Meow Z. Tongue: Yes, why? Isn’t that a lot of money on this planet?




T.: No, not really. Cal.E. could have just told me that she wanted to buy something pretty that costs that much, and I probably would have given her two C-notes to shop. She could have given one to you and kept one for herself, and I never would have known the difference.


C.: Yes, my love, but we wanted to show you that we could solve this problem without your money.


d.: Hold on, y’all. Buddy Bones flapped his ears and flew away, but he left each one of the cats a package with a note that says “No hard feelings, y’all. To show that there is no ill will, I’m leaving each of the cats a parting gift. Enjoy.”




C.: Oh, that looks good.


d.: NO!! don’t touch that Cal.E., or any of the rest of you. I know what Buddy Bones was up to now.


C.: What?


d.: Tune in tomorrow, folks, and find out what a dimwitted dead mutt would leave four cats. Right here on Cal.E.’s Korner.





REFERENCE


Wikipedia (n.d.) Dead man’s hand. 




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