Chapter Ten: The Singing Ignoramuses
I knew you wouldn’t take my advice. You think you’re pretty tough, don’t you? Well, maybe you are and maybe you’re not. We’ll see about that.
But don’t say you weren’t warned.
Okay, where were we? The cannibal brothers had Madame Moonshine tied up and they were staring and grinning at her. And licking their chops in what you might call a threatening manner.
See, I knew all their manniserums, because I had been in that same hot seat before, many times. Mannerisms, I should say, not manniserums. When a cannibal looks at you in a certain way, with a glint in his eye and with drooling chops, you begin to suspect that he’s hungry.
And when two of ’em look at you that way, you know you’ve found Double Trouble.
Anyways, I tuned into their frequencies and listened. Madame was showing spunk and courage. She held her head up and glared right back at them.
“This is disgraceful! I demand that you turn me loose, right now and this very minute.” The brothers grinned. “Because if you don’t release me and put an end to this disgraceful folly, I shall have to employ drastic measures.”
“Har, har, har.”
“And if I am forced to do so, you will regret it.”
“Har, har, har.”
“Very well. You leave me no choice. I will now summon my bodyguard. Timothy! Oh Timothy! Come, Timothy, come at once and give these ruffians a taste of their own medicine.”
At that very moment, I heard a slithering sound behind me, and then felt something . . . uh . . . cold and creepy moving along my right side. I didn’t really want to know what it might be, but my eyes sort of wandered to the right and . . .
Yipes! I found myself looking straight into the eyes of the biggest, ugliest rattlesnake I’d seen since the last time I’d crossed paths with Big Tim, Madame Moonshine’s personal bodyguard.
He gave me a glare that sent pins and needles down my backbone. Oh, and he stuck out his tongue. On impulse, I pushed his head away.
“Will you point that thing somewhere else, you dumbbell snake! The guys you want are right over there in the clearing.” His tail began to rattle. “What I meant to say was . . . hi, Tim, how’s it going, fella, and the ruffians are straight ahead and to the left.”
He continued to rattle and glare at me.
“I’m really not part of this deal, Tim, no kidding. I’m just an innocent bystander who’s . . . uh . . . innocently standing by, so to speak. And you’re looking for coyotes, right? Over there. See, I may look like a coyote but I’m actually a dog. Honest. No kidding.”
He was still rattling.
“Okay, forget what I said about you being a dumbbell snake. You’re not a dumbbell snake at all. You’re one of the nicest, sweetest . . .”
Madame’s voice cut me off. “Timothy! Come here at once.”
Big Tim gave me one last hateful look and slithered into battle, whilst I finished my thought—under my breath, of course. “You’re one of the ugliest dumbbell snakes I ever met.”
Well, Big Tim made his appearance on the scenery. Madame Moonshine smiled at the brothers and announced, “And this is Timothy, my personal bodyguard. As you can see, he is a turbocharged western diamondback rattlesnake, and he is armed with the very deadliest of poisons.”
Rip and Snort winked at each other and grinned. “Coyote brothers not even tinier bit scared of bodyguarded snake.”
“Well, you should be. Why, Timothy once spat upon an enormous tree and it withered and died, before our very eyes. What he might do to a couple of unkempt, ill-mannered ragamuffin coyotes, we can only imagine.”
They laughed again. “Ha! Ragamuffin coyotes not worrying about fat stupid snake. Ragamuffin coyotes wrap fatter stupidest snake around tree and tie in knot, ho ho.”
Madame gave them a wise smile. “Oh you think you will, do you? I think not. Timothy?” He threw himself into a coil, began buzzing, and pointed his head at the brothers. “Timothy, we are being harrassed by these ignoramuses. Show them what we think of ignoramuses. Charge! Tallyho!”
By George, it was one of the shortest fights in history. In a matter of seconds, Rip and Snort had old Timothy wrapped around a hackberry tree and tied in a knot. He looked like a Christmas wreath.
I told you those guys were tough.
They returned to Madame Moonshine, who wasn’t looking quite as spunky as she had before. Snort grinned down at her.
“What Momma Moonbeam think of ignoramuses now?”
She blinked her big owlish eyes. “I think you are ill-mannered, foul-smelling, uncivilized ruffians.” They howled with glee. They loved it. “I think you should be ashamed of yourselves.” More laughter. “But I can see that you’re not, because you’re nothing but a couple of ignorant barbarians.”
They nodded their heads and laughed. “Coyote not give hoot for being ashamed. Coyote not give hoot for nothing. Ignoramus coyote brothers prouder and proudest, ’cause Rip and Snort love being ignor-rent.”
And with that, the brothers cut loose with a song. I know, it was an odd time for them to burst into a song, but those guys were pretty strange. Here’s how it went.
We’re Proud to Be Ignoramuses
A cannibal’s life’s the one for us,
We’re as happy as we can be.
We’ve got no job or worries
Or responsibilities.
We ain’t too swift on thinking,
We ain’t too sharp in math.
We’re experts, though, at stinking
’Cause we never take a bath.
We’re proud to be ignoramuses,
Ramuses, ramuses.
We just love being ignoramuses,
It’s more fun than a barrel of monkeys.
Me and Rip never went to school
Or learned arithmetic.
But we’ve got our own method for counting
And it works out pretty slick.
We point with our toes and call out the count,
“One, four, seven.”
And if someone says, “You guys can’t count,”
We beat him up. It works. Ho, ho.
We’re proud to be ignoramuses,
Ramuses, ramuses.
We just love being ignoramuses,
It’s more fun than a barrel of monkeys.
We’re ignor-rent of language
And proud of it to boot.
We’re fluent in burping and belching
And we don’t give a hoot.
And as for the writing of portry and songs
With rhyming and rhythm and stuff.
We do if we want and don’t if we don’t,
And if you don’t like it we’ll break your face.
We’re proud to be ignoramuses,
Ramuses, ramuses.
We just love being ignoramuses,
It’s more fun than a barrel of monkeys.
We’re proud to be ignoramuses,
It expresses our deepest thoughts.
We figger we’re both getting famouses
For the science of mental rot.
And one of these days we’ll win an award.
You weenies’ll be so surprised.
Not the Nobel or Pulitzer,
But the Ignoramus Prize, ha ha.
We’re proud to be ignoramuses,
Ramuses, ramuses.
We just love being ignoramuses,
It’s more fun than a barrel of monkeys.
When they had finished singing the . . . uh . . . song . . . whatever it was . . . when they had finished their latest piece of coyote trash, they yipped and whooped, howled and hollered and hopped, leaped and jumped and congratulated each other for being such wonderful singers and composers.
Then they turned toothy grins on Madame. “What little owl thinking now of Rip and Snort?”
She rolled her eyes and gave her head a shake. “That was the worst song I ever heard, or ever dreamed of hearing.”
Their grins wilted. “Song not worst. Song gooder and goodest. Song expresserating deepest thoughts of ignoramous coyote brothers.”
“It was so bad, you may very well have set all music back fifty years.”
“Little owl better not talking trash about coyote music, ’cause Rip and Snort berry greater singest in whole world. Also hungry for owl supper, oh boy.”
“If you’re such good singers and if your song was so wonderful, why did those weeds over there begin to wilt in the middle of your song?”
All eyes swung to the north, to a small patch of careless weeds. By George, they had all withered and died.
“Ha! Must be pretty strong music, killing weeds.”
“Yes indeed. Poisonous is the word.”
“Ruffian brothers not give a hoot for weeds, ready insteader for supper of fresh owl.”
Their yellow eyes began to sparkle and their tongues swept across their respective mouths. I was watching all of this from my hiding place in the brush, and I kept waiting for Madame to . . . well, DO SOMETHING. Why was she just sitting there? I mean, she had magical powers. Why wasn’t she using them?
Those were all interesting questions, but it suddenly occurred to me that Rip and Snort were fixing to make a meal out of her, and never mind the interesting questions. Unless someone took charge of the situation and . . .
Gee, I sure hated to lose a friend like Madame Moonshine, but I wasn’t the kind of dog who made a habit of butting into the affairs of . . . well, hungry cannibals.
I mean, it wasn’t my fight. I had problems of my own, and as a matter of fact, I had BIG problems of my own and . . .
But on the other hand, the brothers were creeping toward her with a kind of evil lightning crackling in their eyes. I could see that Madame was afraid, but I kind of admired the way she held her head up and faced her destiny.
She had spunk and courage, that little owl, and it was just a shame . . .
I pushed myself up on all fours and walked into the middle of the gathering.