A classic tale updated for a new century
The Drumpf boys were on the prowl! Well-armed and bundled up in authentic hunting outfits, they were ready to blast away at anything that moved. It was an exciting day for the big game hunters. They’d given their guide a day off and were tramping the trail by themselves. Already twenty minutes from the lodge, their situation was getting tense. If they strayed from the well-marked trail, or failed to make the proper 180 degree turn for home, they could be lost for hours! Don Jr. noticed that he was down to only one bar on his cell phone but decided not to say anything so as not to spook Eric.
Eric kept humming along happily until he felt a certain fullness and pressure.
“Don, I gotta go peepee,” he whined. “I gotta go bad!”
“I told you not to drink all your Kool-Aid so fast,” Don Jr. told him sternly. “You’ll just have to hold it til we get back to the lodge.”
“No, no, I can’t hold it that long. I gotta go now!”
“All right,” sighed Don Jr. “I guess you can go behind that bush and just pee in the woods.”
Eric giggled. Only bad boys peed outdoors, this was going to be fun! He was out of sight for only a couple of minutes when a blood-curdling scream suddenly ripped through the forest. Don Jr. stared in horror as Eric came thrashing out of the woods with his pants half down and his boyhood flapping in the breeze.
“Gosh darn it all to heck!”
“What’s wrong Eric? Are you all right?” Don Jr. was worried; a three word swear meant something was seriously amiss.
“A snake, a big snake! And it bit me! It bit me on the wiener!”
Don Jr. glanced down and saw that there were two small red dots right on the tip of Eric’s thingy. He looked away quickly and thought about running back to the lodge for help. Of course, that would mean talking to people at the lodge about Eric’s wiener. He didn’t want to do that, they’d laugh at him for sure.
“Wait," thought Don Jr. "I’ll call Dad, he’ll know what to do!”
Don Jr. quickly pulled up the special secret direct number that the Drumpf kept open at all times for his kids to use.
“Hello, Uncle Mike? I need to talk to Dad . . . Yes, it’s important! . . . Well, it’s about Eric’s wiener . . . Oh, hello Dad? Eric got bit by a snake on his – “
“Bit by a snake!" the Drumpf interrupted. "Was it that sonuvabitch governor from Washington State? I don’t want you boys talking to him, believe me!”
“No Dad, we’re in the woods and I think it might have been a rattlesnake. There’s two red dots – “
“Okay, I know just what to do," the Drumpf interrupted again. "I’ve studied snakes and I probably know more about rattlesnakes than anybody in the world. I’m the only one who can handle a problem like this.”
Don Jr. suppressed a snicker at the thought of his Dad handling Eric’s ‘problem’.
“The first thing is to calm him down so the poison doesn’t spread.”
“C’mon Don, it really hurts! What does Dad say?”
“Dad says to sit down and be quiet, dope!”
“Is the bite near his heart?” asked the Drumpf.
“No, it’s on the end of – “
“Good, good, that means you’ve got some time," the Drumpf interrupted again. "Not a lot of people know this, but you’re gonna have to use your pocket knife to cut an X across each puncture. Then you’re gonna have to suck out the poison. Oh, and whatever you do, don’t swallow! Make sure to spit it out.”
“Hurry Don,” moaned Eric. “What does Dad say?”
“Hang on Eric,” Don Jr. turned away and lowered his voice. “Dad, are you sure? Do I really have to suck on - "
“Yes, suck but don’t swallow!" the Drumpf interrupted yet again. "And if you don’t do it right Eric could die!” the Drumpf abruptly clicked off. He’d already missed almost 5 minutes of Fox & Friends and didn’t want to waste any more executive time on trivial family drama.
“C’mon, tell me Don, what does Dad say?”
“Eric, Dad says . . . Dad says . . .”
Don Jr. choked back a sob.
“Dad says you’re gonna die.”
Author's note: ▼