Mel and the Cajun Kid were top hands in the rodeo business in their youth. They can sure tell stories.

A STICKY GIFT

Mel said the Cajun Kid meant well. They had been rodeoin’ together for years. So Mel knew that Kid’s gift was sent with the sincerest intention. It never occurred to either of them that the lid would loosen in the mail!

Kid grew up in sout’ Looziana. In his youth he helped make ribbon cane syrup on a mule-driven press. He’d fed the cane into the machine, which mashed out the juice. Dat’s wot dey made dem syrup wit! Wuddn’t as thick as molasses, but it sho wuz sweet!

Mel walked down to the mailbox. It was a hot summer mornin’. Not oppressive, just the pleasant birdsongs and bees a’hummin’. As he closed in on the mailbox, the hummin’ got louder. Soon he could see herds of bees flyin’ over like geese in winter! Beneath his feet, columns of ants marched in single file down the path. They had two infantry and one armored division!

Flies zipped in like fighter planes, butterflies drifted aloft like weather balloons, and a pod of hummingbirds whizzed around the target!

At first glance Mel thought his mailbox was a grizzly bear! The post was covered with a moving carpet of every crawling critter with a sweet tooth! The box itself was swarmed with layers of bees in the shape of a buffalo head!

He took a long stick and pried open the door. The floor was sticky with syrup. Although the can was packed in a wooden box, it was not syrup tight. Ribbon cane syrup oozed over the side and dripped toward the ground like lava. Two-, four-, six-, and eight-legged varmints stood underneath, mouths agape like baby robins!

Using a branch, a piece of baler twine, and a broken chunk of sheep wire, he fished out the wooden box. It hit the ground with a thunk and a gurgle.

Mel ran to the house, backed the pickup down the road, and shoveled the shipping box containing the can into the bed of his truck. He mounted the seat and sped down the highway. He was followed by a black cloud that could be seen and heard two counties away! He maintained 85 mph six miles before he finally outran the last of his pursuers!

He retrieved his precious cargo, noted the return address on the box, and headed home. As he turned up the drive, he noticed, to his relief, that the plague of syrup slurping varmints were gone. So was his mailbox! The whole bunch had mobilized and just packed it off!