Told me they'd be back at dawn to see how we did. Then they left.
Well, Little Joe and I proceeded to lay out a strategy for when the Chupacabra came lookin' to suck on them critters out in the pen.
Basically, I was to rush the creature and knock him down with a large stick. ‘Large stick’ is what Little Joe called it; he likes to talk all scientific-like. Then, I would proceed to beat him mercilessly until he died or cried uncle or something. I was a little worried.
"How about some dynamite or a set of one of them whatyoucall numb-chucks? Is a large stick enough to beat this thing?"
"This Chupacabra is not that difficult to physically defeat, Red," Little Joe said directly into my mind using his extraterrestrial head-shrinker powers. "After all, their main prey are goats and truckers, notoriously slow and stubborn creatures of limited intelligence. You main goal shall be to overcome your fear and to concentrate on the task at hand."
"Fear? I ain't got no fear." I said, kinda halfway believing it. "I was born ready!"
"Red, it's standard procedure for me to ask you if you are ready before you declare that you are 'born ready'. I had only stated what you were tasked to do. I had yet to ask if you were ready to do it." said Little Joe.
"Sorry," I said. "You kind of implied that you were finished. At least that's what I heard."
Little Joe looked at me kind sort of perturbed-like, if a dog can actually do that.
We kind of let it awkwardly drop.
"Anyway, when's this Chupa-thing showing up? It's gettin' late and I got a hankerin' for some of Miss Betty's chorizo and eggs down at the truck stop."
"Have patience, Red. The Chupacabra will arrive when the moon has reached its apex. For now, I'd like you to drink a cup of this tea. It will help ease your fear and focus your energies."
From out of nowhere it seemed, he pushed a cup of steaming tea over to me with his paw. I downed the thing in one gulp – I like my tea of the iced-variety, but this weren’t too bad. I was mainly eager to get this little experiment over sose I could grab me some eggs and get to my special big rig and all.
I started to feel a bit woozy, then fell into a deep-type sleep. Why did he always have to make me fall asleep? Can’t he just have let me sit there and ponder things?
Next thing I knew, I was awoken by some strange-type sounds coming from the goat pen outside. Little Joe was nowhere in sight, so, fearin' the worst, I grabbed my large stick and headed out the door.
What I was about to see would haunt me for years to come and change my life forever, not to mention the history of music.
Oklahoma Is Not Okay, Part IV
