Slim Pickens and the Goat Who Cried Too Little

This is the first story of Slim Pickens and tells how he got his flannel shirt.

Slim Pickens was the Number One choice. Of all the guys, he was a good guy. One day in the Land of Dunch, Slim Pickens was working on his jump-shot with his way-too-left-over leftovers.

"Gotta make sure I keep those elbows out and my toes about," said Slim Pickens.

Just then, a brick came falling out the sky via cloud-mail.

"Ow, my concussion!" said Slim Pickens. He picked up the brick and read the note.

Dear Slim,

  I am a Farmer and lately my goats have not been crying more than two gallons a day. If I can't meet my monthly quota of goat tears, my land will be repossessed by British pet groomers and I'll have to disguise myself to sneak into the orphanage again.

Please help,

a Farmer.

P.S. I'll throw in a less-than-hefty reward.

Slim Pickens was fired-up. "I'll be in this bunch like second dunch!"

He called up his friend the Poodonkis and together they walked over to Goat-Tear farm.


a Farmer met them at the entrance. "I'm so glad you're here, Slim Pickens."


"What's the problem, a Farmer?"

"It's my leader-goat. He won't get up and go to the crying fields. None of the other goats know what to do."

"Point me in the direction of that goat."

"Me too!" said the Poodonkis.

Slim Pickens and the Poodonkis found the leader goat in the goat-shed sleeping on his goaty goat-bed. The leader goat looked outrageously happy and welcomed the two into his shed.

"What's the deal Mr. Goat?" said Slim Pickens. "Don't you have some crying to do? Aren't you sad that your just a mangy old goat with no friends and you can't open soda bottles even?"

"Me too!" said the Poodonkis.

"I'm not sad at all," said the goat. "I'm happy when the sun rises, and when the wind blows and tickles my nose, and when the crickets chirp at night."

Just then, Fergtan showed up in the tent and did three hundred push-ups. "Oh man," said Fergtan, "my delts are off the charts today. Why's this freakin' goat grinning like a chump?"

"He's a happy goat! He doesn't feel like crying so a Farmer is going to lose his land," said Poodonkis.

"I know!" said Slim Pickens. "He said he likes the sun, the wind, and cricket chirps. So what we need to do is take off his nose so the wind can't tickle it."

So they got some powertools from a local street vendor and removed the goat's nose. But the goat was still happy.

"Now I can live in my filth without worrying about the smell!"

Fergtan was upset. "I'm upset!" said Fergtan. "Why don't we just blow up the sun?"

"No, no," said Slim Pickens. "What we need to do is teach the crickets how to play trumpets so they'll keep the goat awake at night."

So Slim Pickens and the Poodonkis signed all the crickets in the field up for three months of trumpet lessons and practiced with the crickets every night. But the goat was still happy.

"What we need to do is teach some of the crickets how to play the tambourine and some of the crickets how to play the xylophone," said Slim Pickens.

But before they could do that, Fergtan built a rocket full of chainsaw gloves and cigarette butts and blew up the Sun.

Then the goat was very sad. "Oh man," said the goat. "It'll take weeks for the Sun to grow back."

And all the goats cried into double double overtime and everyone else and a farmer were happy.

"Hooray!" said everyone else and a farmer.

Then, Slim Pickens noticed the corner of something in the goat's bed. It was a flannel shirt.

"This my new jam," said Slim Pickens.

"You should find a thrift store and burn that thing out back by the donation bin," said Fergtan.

And then a gang of hooligans showed up and played all the hits.

The End and more to come.