Weekly Gunslinger Rap

Vern Gagne

"The story you are about to read is true. Everything here actually happened. And while the greatest care has been taken to tell the entire story, some of the names have been changed to protect the innocent ... and the guilty. Parents with young children and people operating heavy machinery may wish to consider whether or not they should continue reading this without consulting the proper medical and/or psychological authorities."

Jess's Bar-B-Que Beef Sandwich

"I wouldn't eat in this dirty rotten horrible germ infested bar-b-que rat house for all the money stuffed under Vern Gagne's mattress." These words were not spoken, but growled by the man who Nick Bockwinkel often refered to as the man who knew all there was to know about everything, Pretty Boy Harvey.

We were on the road in the Amarillo Territory. Friday was Abilene, Texas and I loved to drive the back roads. There were few highway patrol and if you knew the way you could make the trip from Amarillo to Abilene in about five hours including a lunch stop at Jess's Bar-B-Que in Spur Texas. I know Jess's Bar-B-Que Cafe didn't look like much. It was just a shack on the south side of town, just an old barnwood shack, but Jess made the best Bar-B-Que I have ever tasted and Jess expected us every Monday afternoon.

Pretty Boy Harvey chose to stay in the back seat of my Chevey Super Sport rather than soil his hands or subject himself to a little Texas dirt to have a taste of the most delicious bar-b-que on God's green earth.

The Amarillo Territory was a tough grind. Many of the boys worked seven days a week and we traveled the loop from Amarillo TV on Saturday to Pueblo Colorado, Albuquerque, El Paso, Odessa, Lubbock, Amarillo, and Abilene. It was hard work but it was fun. We liked to say we worked hard and we played hard. For a small territory, the boys made very good money.

After working Albuquerque on Sunday night, The show was over by 9:00pm, we would hit the road to El Paso and straight across the border to Juraze, Mexico for party time. We could make the border easy by midnight. Then we would come back across the border at 4:00am and check in to the Del Camino Motel and they would count it as a Monday check in. We got two days for the price of one.

On this particular night we were across the border and in the Club Noa Noa by 12:30 am., Myself, Ricky Romero, Georgeous George Jr. Lord Hayes, and Pretty Boy Harvey. The music was loud, the tequila salt and lime would warm your body, and the girls on stage looked better with each passing drink. By 2:00 in the morning we had tried everything including the electric shock machine. I managed to withstand the shock meter to a maximum of ten. "Please pass the tequila lime and salt."

Now the boys wanted something extra so we asked the Maitre d' if anything else was available. He said follow me. We did, behind the stage down a long hall with rooms on each side. At the end we entered a door to the left. It was a strange room, small with a stage covered with velvet cloth. It was about shoulder high. The Maitre d' took five dollars from each of us and said, "Wait here, the show will start in five minutes." We waited, and discussed whether or not the Matre'd may have taken our money and left.

Soon music started to play and with a recorded introduction, Senorita Babette Bardot stepped from behind the curtain in a fringed bikini. She stepped on to the stage and began dancing go go style to the music. The beat got louder and stronger and she danced lower and lower until finally she was in a squat position. The music stopped and she began clucking like a chicken. "Boake, Boake, Boake, Bawk, Bawk, Baawk, Baaawk. Baaaawk !!!" At which time she pulled her G string aside, "Boaaaaak! Boaaaaak! Boaaaaak!" and with a last loud "Boaaaaak!" She laid an egg. The show was over.

Senorita Babette Bardot stood up straight and turned to walk off the stage when Pretty Boy Harvey Growled, "Wait just a minute, that ain't no show. We paid five dollars apiece and these boys deserve to see a real show. Come here honey, let's give them a real show for their money." To my shock and horror, Pretty Boy Harvey climbed up on the stage with Senorita Bardot. I couldn't believe my eyes as she consented and Pretty Boy Harvey preformed cunnilingus right there on stage in front of all of us. .

When he was finished, Pretty Boy Harvey smiled, buttoned his collar and fixed his tie. He looked at Senorita Bardot and growled, "Did you like it honey," then he looked at us and growled again, "Now you got your money's worth. Maitre d', Show us the way to the door." We left Club Noa Noa, crossed the border into El Paso and stopped for a bowl of Munudo at the Good Luck Cafe. At 4:00 am. we checked into the Del Camino Motel. Two days for the price of one and two five dollar shows to boot.

Business in the Amarillo Territory was good that week. Ricky Romero was the hot Mexican baby face. Terry Myself, and Dory Funk Sr. were working the territory and Sputnik Monroe, Mike Dibiase and Pretty Boy Harvey were the top heels.

From El Paso, it was on to Odessa on Tuesday, Lubbock on Wednesday, Amarillo on Thursday and then it all starts over with the back road trip to Abilene, Texas. We left Amarillo on time at 2:30 in the afternoon. We had to make the trip in five hours to arrive at the old Abilene Fair Park Arena by 7:30 in the evening. As we raced past Tulia, Texas on to small towns, Silverton, Quitaque, Matador, Dickens and then into Spur, my mouth was watering in anticipation of good old Jess's Bar-B-Que beef sandwich. I could hardly wait.

We passed the old jail at the square in Spur, Texas and headed to the south side of town where old Jess's Bar-b-que shack was located I eased up on the gas and applied the brakes. From the back of the seat I could hear the growling voice of Pretty Boy Harvey, the man who knew all there was to know about everything. "I wouldn't eat in this dirty rotten horrible germ infested bar-b-que rat house for all the money stuffed under Vern Gagne's mattress."

I said, "Yeah, Pretty Boy, I know what you mean. Old Jess's Bar-b-que is really bad. We wouldn't want you to eat that."



Return to Dory's home page

Gunslinger Short Stories

All pages and material Copyright © 1996 Dory Funk Jr. All Rights Reserved.