Dude Chaps

[Swifty Morgon]

I was wrangling dudes one summer in Arizona, south of Prescott in the hills.
I was young, full of vinegar, and heck it paid the bills.
It didn't pay to well, but we had room and board, and got to meet lots of pretty girls.
A young buckaroo, set a horse good and play his cards right could set their hearts a whirl.
They would send us city folks by the bus load, then pay us to watch over them and keep then entertained.
Show them bout the cowboy life, that was a full time job to say the least it kept us drained.
After a few months of down right baby setting, we figure heck we could maybe get a few laughs out of these here city folks.
So we made little side bets amongst ourselves who could pull off the best practical jokes.
I'd lead them into canyons full of switch backs and really steep old trails.
Then we would bet on them like track ponies, to see who would be the first to bail.
One day ole cookie put ex lax in the brownies, then we screwed the outhouse door shut.
We was over behind the bunkhouse rolling on the ground laughing as those dudes wrenched with their twisted, gurgling  guts.
One day this pretty little gal came up and said she may need a doctor, her legs were chapped bad and really sore.
We never passed the opportunity for a good joke, so we tell her come on down to the bunkhouse, heck we were set up better than any ole drug store.
She wasn't to hard to convince that this here purple spray we had would surely help her heal.
She dropped her Levis down round her ankles and let us spray it on, I don't know bout her, but better we did feel.
I wasn't about to tell her that this here screw worm medicine, well might not do the trick.
But a good joke had been pulled on this lady dude, so we were feeling pretty slick.
Next day she came back and said that stuff don't wash off, and I'm still sore, for a cure guys I am a begging.
So we broke down and went to the tack room and gave her a pair of some old wore out leggings.
She was a real trooper, and she made every trail ride we had for a couple days or more.
She was starting to walk funny though, you could tell this gal was sore.
She told us her legs felt much better, but now her butt was raw,  us punchers winked at each other as she was leaving.
We just stood there and we watched go, the view it was mighty pleasing.
Call it cruel or down right ornery to say the least, and could be argued sinful perhaps.
But none of us wranglers had the heart to tell her, she needed to wear jeans beneath those chaps.

[wildman1]

Yer gittin better as ya go 'long.  WM