From Small Southwestern City Picayune/Advocate/Intelligencer
April 1, 2024
Mr. Orville Slack IV: The Family Tree
By Mr. Myles na Gopaleen, Jr.
As befits a candidate for the Number Two spot on a presidential ticket, the circumstances of Mr. Orville Slack IV’s lineage and life were of a humble nature.
Slack I was a semi-orphan. His mother was a Mexican tap-dancer named Margarita. Shortly before his birth, his father, a dissolute Englishman named Jack Slack, decamped from Panhandle County, leaving his wife to fend for herself. This fending consisted of moving to a nearby cave and living on cooked sagebrush, homemade tequila, and the occasional jackrabbit she was able to gun down with an amazing accuracy that was then passed along to her son and their line of sons. Legend has it that Margarita could shoot the end of a squat cigar out of the mouth of a deputy sheriff at fifty paces. There was not a bank teller in Panhandle County—or so it is said—who did not fear Grass-Widow Slack. Indeed, a good part of an aspiring Panhandle County bank teller’s training came to consist of mastering the art of petitioning a Supreme Being of his, or on rare occasions her, choice.
(To be continued)
April 1, 2024
Mr. Orville Slack IV: The Family Tree
By Mr. Myles na Gopaleen, Jr.
As befits a candidate for the Number Two spot on a presidential ticket, the circumstances of Mr. Orville Slack IV’s lineage and life were of a humble nature.
Slack I was a semi-orphan. His mother was a Mexican tap-dancer named Margarita. Shortly before his birth, his father, a dissolute Englishman named Jack Slack, decamped from Panhandle County, leaving his wife to fend for herself. This fending consisted of moving to a nearby cave and living on cooked sagebrush, homemade tequila, and the occasional jackrabbit she was able to gun down with an amazing accuracy that was then passed along to her son and their line of sons. Legend has it that Margarita could shoot the end of a squat cigar out of the mouth of a deputy sheriff at fifty paces. There was not a bank teller in Panhandle County—or so it is said—who did not fear Grass-Widow Slack. Indeed, a good part of an aspiring Panhandle County bank teller’s training came to consist of mastering the art of petitioning a Supreme Being of his, or on rare occasions her, choice.
(To be continued)
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