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Shittoon
When the spittoon isn't enough. | |
The saloon doors swung open, framing the lean silhouette of Sheriff Crump. He strode purposefully to the bar
and a squat, sinister figure in dirty black who stood watching, glass in hand. The piano stopped.
"Ignatio Morris... also known as The Toad?"
A hush fell over the saloon. The Toad
inclined his head a fraction of an inch.
Crump fixed him with a steely glare. "Things have changed in this town. We don't want trouble here, and I understand you're looking for trouble."
The Toad looked the sheriff up and down with a disparaging eye, then turned to the spittoon.
"hwickkk - thooo - tingggggg!" He turned back to the sherriff. "And if I am?"
The sheriff shifted slightly, so that his back was facing the shittoon.
"PHBBBBBPPTTHHOOO - SHBONNNNGGGGGG".
He nodded slowly. "Then I guess you might find it."
The Toad quickly paid the bartender, adding a generous tip. "Well, nobody wants that! Thank you gentlemen and good day." He hustled quickly out the door, casting a frightened glance at the still steaming shittoon.
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I swear to God, if this idea had said izzard at the bottom, I was going to put that kid over me and wallop him! |
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I hate to say it, but I might have accidentally invented this once or twice in my day... |
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I'll never spit into the toilet again. |
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I will abstain from voting. The
plus and minus cancel each other
out. : ) |
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croissant, just for the laugh. |
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I hear tell the Sheriff once killed a man from twenty paces. |
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C T, you sure? If you take out the "the bar and"
temporarily, it makes sense, even if clunky, so is it not
actually correct as it is? |
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is this why Tolstoy got depressed? |
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//PHBBBBBPPTTHHOOOSHBONNNNGGGGGG// |
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but they are my generation. |
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am I missing a joke here? |
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please note batting average on author's profile page. |
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hah, (thats amazing) not *Literally* the "batting average" just noticed that. |
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[C Treb] - I set up that first sentence to make the sheriff look purposeful and shift focus while sparing words. The long modifier at the end makes it seem off kilter. If you have the sheriff walk to the bar and mention that the bar is where a scary dude is watching it is not clear that the sheriff is aware of the watching man. The sheriff is walking towards bar and man. Reverse the order, putting person before place, and it feels more natural: "the sheriff walked back towards Rusty and the corrall". Without all the modifiers at the end, person after place might seem easier too: "Rusty made his way to the whorehouse and Mona". But if someone wants to really open up some Strunk and White flavored whuppass, I am a lover of larning. All these junior high folks around here - one of them must be able to diagram a sentence. |
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This is equally tasteless and fascinating. I like the illustrative description. |
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He strode purposefully to the bar, where glass in hand, stood a squat, sinister figure in dirty black, his beady eyes returning the Sheriff's stare. |
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"Things have changed in this town. We don't want trouble here, and I reckon you're a-fixin' for trouble." |
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"It was bean night at the Old Dodge Saloon. Sherrif Clump heard a rumble in the distance. 'Uh-oh, trouble.' he thought..." |
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When I first saw this idea, I
skipped past it thinking that
somebody (not sayin' who) was
proposing a cartoon with a
complete fart soundtrack/
dialogue. |
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I swear, I didn't create a second
account. : ) But if it was me I
would
have called it a farttoon. |
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....thereby robbing this idea of the sordid visual element. You don't need a pot if all you're gonna do is fart, though. |
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Unless something goes horribly wrong. |
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My brother and I once made a music tracker using burps, farts and samples of monty python involving the spanish inquisition.
Just thought you might like to know that. |
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Heres a joke I first saw on the Register, but isn't there any more. As they said, those of a weak constitution look away now. This story once read cannot be unread. |
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Honestly. I really mean it.
... |
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A man walks into a bar and says, "I'd really like a shot of whisky but I don't quite have the money."
"OK", says the barman, "Just take a sip from the spittoon over there and I'll give you one on the house.
<A hush falls, the piano stops, etc etc..>
The man gets up, goes over to the brimming spittoon, picks it up, and downs the contents in one. |
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"Jesus Christ!" Exclaims the barman, "I only said a sip!" |
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"I know," gags the man, "but it was in one string." |
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You can't say I didn't warn you. |
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A hush falls over young Bungston (making this hush #3). Who wudda thunk that the plebian Shittoon could provoke such discussion? I need to lift the good Farmer's storytelling style of idea description for future ideas (though all prose clunks are my own). |
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Oh, the irony, that [bungston] created thee! |
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//Let me get this straight... The bad guy left town because the sherrif shit himself in public. Am I missing something, here?//
He didnt shit himself, be shat in a bucket, big difference. |
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This is a funny story. It keeps popping up in my mind as I
am
walking around town. |
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why does the sheriff walk around pantsless (bare-assed) in this town bungston? |
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[schmen], he wears a bucket. |
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Actually a codpiece and chaps, like all good sheriffs. Thanks for the kudos, [JHC}. |
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[+] For leaving me struggling not to laugh in a University library. |
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I bet the sheriff wears those PJ's with teh little button up flap that you always see on cartoons and stuff. Which reminds me....
I shot the sheriff! But not the deputeeee! |
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