Tales of Bob Dean #8

On a cool, clear October evening in 2001, Bob Dean and I sat on the swingset in an elementary school playground contemplating the stars.

“In light of recent events,” said Bob Dean, “I do believe I’ll have another swig of rum.”

“Due to recent occurrences”, said I, “I do believe I’ll join you.”

The clouds passed over the moon and we sat on the swings and drank.

Suddenly, from behind a thicket of pine trees, there appeared a wild dog, and in its teeth was a ham steak!  Bob Dean dropped his flask and charged the dog on all fours.  I rolled my eyes, drank a deep swallow of rum, and called after him, “Bob Dean, not on the premises of an institution of learning!  Please!  Has McLuhan taught you nothing?” but Bob Dean was already upon the snarling beast, and had the ham steak in his grasp.

Bob Dean raced with the ham steak flapping in his mouth, streamers of dog drool and pig fat smacking against his neck, and saw his ultimate salvation at the top of the slide where the dog could not reach.  He tore up the ladder to the highest step, and there he contemplated his predicament.

Looking down the ladder behind him, he saw the dog, gnashing its teeth and crashing against the steps with its head, desperate to dislodge Bob Dean from the peak of the ladder.  He called out to me, “Considering recent events, do you think you might persuade this dog to kindly fuck off?”

“I think your problems may be worse than they originally appeared, Bob Dean,” I replied, “due to recent what-have-yous.”  And with this I gestured toward the gathering throng of wild dogs which had formed at the base of the slide.

Bob Dean was trapped.  There was no getting away.

And then he remembered the gritty, spitty ham steak still in his hands.  He took a bite, and it was the most delicious ham steak he had ever eaten.