County Line Rooster Club 2

[Buck Douff]

continued from last week...
Meanwhile, the Chief lay near death in his chicken coop,
his tail feathers all fell out and his comb began to droop.
At this point, regaining his health was all that really mattered.
A call went out across the land,
seeking a top-notch medicine man,
an intriguing application was received from a dude called "Backboard Shattered."

The vetting process revealed he was a "double dipper"
firewood cutter and burger flipper,
he'd saved his money and had more than he would ever need.
A bit of an eccentric and odd ball, I'll confess,
but it's all about the product, not the process.
Besides... he offered to do the deal for chicken feed !

A poultice made from the yolk of a fertilized egg, a TBSP of yeast,
mixed with butter churned from the milk of a Wildebeest,
meticulously applied every day for a week, in sweltering Sweat Lodge heat.
constantly chanting in an unknown tongue,
to the rhythmic beat of a tom-tom drum.  hi yi yi yi, hi yi yi
Suddenly, a bare-chested, bushy-headed bug-eyed Backboard busted out, bellered and screamed:
HYROKEN ! HYROKEN ! whateverinhellthatmeans !

Backboard, re-hydrated, shaved, and showered,
grinning like a donkey eating sawbrawers,
convinced he'd just created a synthetic Y chromosome !
said with a smile, it may take a while,
but you've gotta know, that  roosters  gonna  crow!
Then jump-started the Dodge diesel one ton dually, and headed home.

and the rooster crowed all right, but such was the case,
that sum-buck crowed in falsetto, instead of bass !
to be continued...
.

[Buck Douff]

continued from last week...
Meanwhile, the Chief lay near death in his chicken coop,
his tail feathers all fell out and his comb began to droop.
At this point, regaining his health was all that really mattered.
A call went out across the land,
seeking a top-notch medicine man,
an intriguing application was received from a dude called "Backboard Shattered."

The vetting process revealed he was a "double dipper"
firewood cutter and burger flipper,
he'd saved his money and had more than he would ever need.
A bit of an eccentric and odd ball, I'll confess,
but it's all about the product, not the process.
Besides... he offered to do the deal for chicken feed !

A poultice made from the yolk of a fertilized egg, a TBSP of yeast,
mixed with butter churned from the milk of a Wildebeest,
meticulously applied every day for a week, in sweltering Sweat Lodge heat.
constantly chanting in an unknown tongue,
to the rhythmic beat of a tom-tom drum.  hi yi yi yi, hi yi yi
Suddenly, a bare-chested, bushy-headed bug-eyed Backboard busted out, bellered and screamed:
HYROKEN ! HYROKEN ! whateverinhellthatmeans !

Backboard, re-hydrated, shaved, and showered,
grinning like a donkey eating sawbrawers,
convinced he'd just created a synthetic Y chromosome !
said with a smile, it may take a while,
but you've gotta know, that  roosters  gonna  crow!
Then jump-started the Dodge diesel one ton dually, and headed home.

and the rooster crowed all right, but such was the case,
that sum-buck crowed in falsetto, instead of bass !
to be continued...
.
Attempts to contact Backboard were all to no avail,
every call went straight to his voice mail.
When he finally called back, his voice sounded far away.
He pleaded with the Rooster Club to never, ever, give up,
he promised, if they would let the rooster keep his cup,
he would send them his top protégé !

Joe Buck was his game, basketball was his game.

One day, a tall dark stranger rode into town,
in a black Ford F150, with the tailgate down.
He checked the Chief and found him suffering from depression and despair.
Speaking with authority, the stranger said,
"Dad Gummitt Chief you ain't nowhere near dead,"
"now, get your butt up outta that bed and grow a pair !"

The lights in the County Line gym came back on,
Cheerleaders were singing a spirit song,
the squeak of shoes on the practice floor, was music to their ears.
The Rooster Club was anxious to know,
when they would finally get to hear that rooster crow,
a sound they hadn't heard for several years!

Then the Chief threw them a symbolic bone,
and started to crow in a RICH BARITONE !
This things' nearly done, hang on a little longer ....

[Backboard Shattered]

Classic

[Batman44]

BS, you may have met your match!!

[D6Bound]

Only in Arkansas.

[Buck Douff]

continued from last week...
Meanwhile, the Chief lay near death in his chicken coop,
his tail feathers all fell out and his comb began to droop.
At this point, regaining his health was all that really mattered.
A call went out across the land,
seeking a top-notch medicine man,
an intriguing application was received from a dude called "Backboard Shattered."

The vetting process revealed he was a "double dipper"
firewood cutter and burger flipper,
he'd saved his money and had more than he would ever need.
A bit of an eccentric and odd ball, I'll confess,
but it's all about the product, not the process.
Besides... he offered to do the deal for chicken feed !

A poultice made from the yolk of a fertilized egg, a TBSP of yeast,
mixed with butter churned from the milk of a Wildebeest,
meticulously applied every day for a week, in sweltering Sweat Lodge heat.
constantly chanting in an unknown tongue,
to the rhythmic beat of a tom-tom drum.  hi yi yi yi, hi yi yi
Suddenly, a bare-chested, bushy-headed bug-eyed Backboard busted out, bellered and screamed:
HYROKEN ! HYROKEN ! whateverinhellthatmeans !

Backboard, re-hydrated, shaved, and showered,
grinning like a donkey eating sawbrawers,
convinced he'd just created a synthetic Y chromosome !
said with a smile, it may take a while,
but you've gotta know, that  roosters  gonna  crow!
Then jump-started the Dodge diesel one ton dually, and headed home.

and the rooster crowed all right, but such was the case,
that sum-buck crowed in falsetto, instead of bass !
to be continued...
.
Attempts to contact Backboard were all to no avail,
every call went straight to his voice mail.
When he finally called back, his voice sounded far away.
He pleaded with the Rooster Club to never, ever, give up,
he promised, if they would let the rooster keep his cup,
he would send them his top protégé !

Joe Buck was his game, basketball was his game.

One day, a tall dark stranger rode into town,
in a black Ford F150, with the tailgate down.
He checked the Chief and found him suffering from depression and despair.
Speaking with authority, the stranger said,
"Dad Gummitt Chief you ain't nowhere near dead,"
"now, get your butt up outta that bed and grow a pair !"

The lights in the County Line gym came back on,
Cheerleaders were singing a spirit song,
the squeak of shoes on the practice floor, was music to their ears.
The Rooster Club was anxious to know,
when they would finally get to hear that rooster crow,
a sound they hadn't heard for several years!

Then the Chief threw them a symbolic bone,
and started to crow in a RICH BARITONE !
This things' nearly done, hang on a little longer ....

It was a clear, crisp early November day,
and to the Rooster Clubs' dismay,
out in the barnyard Chief lay, apparently dead !
He was flat of his back,
with his legs drawed back,
and his good eye wuz rolled up in his head.

Now the Rooster Club President seldom cried,
but there was a tear in her eye, when she stepped outside,
to pay that rooster his last and final respects.
But imagine her surprise,
when she poked that rooster, he grunted and opened his eyes.
She could hardly hold her happiness in check !

Then ol' Chief cocked that one good eye,
up in that clear cool morning sky,
where them eagles(wearing blue & white) were soaring overhead.
He winked at the prez and said, "don't act like no fool
we need to play this thing cool"
I'm trying to make them female eagles think I'm dead !

And he did, and the female eagles landed.
It was a small step for Eaglekind,
but a giant leap for County Line.
Consecutive trips to state,
Nashville made it eight,
The Chief is back, and feeling fine !

And finally, filling a prominent place,
in the County Line Trophy Case,
is the Roosters' Cup, proudly displayed,
with these words engraved :
              HYROKEN
WHATEVERINHELLTHATMEANS

Thanks to FF for use of their forum, to Backboard Shattered for his inspiration and kind words, and special thanks to the author of "Bill, the over-sexed Rooster" copyright 2013, for allowing me to use excerpts from his poem.