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Slim Randles
Slim Randles

When Dewey and Emily walked into the Mule Barn the other day, they were greeted with applause and whistles. Emily blushed and Dewey took a bow, almost hitting the coffee pot Loretta was carrying.

“I hear you too really fell for each other,” Doc said. “And the way I hear it, many times.”

“That’s right, Doc, I finally cornered him and we’re planning a wedding,” Emily said.

Emily is a brave soul, taking for a husband the most accident prone human being since Wrong Way Corrigan.

The think tank was at the round table this morning, and the fellows made room for the young couple. Dewey very slowly and deliberately pulled a chair back for Emily, then helped her scoot it in. He then pulled out his chair slowly and sat down. It was like he was operating in molasses.

“Are you okay, Dewey?” 

“Sure am, Doc.”

“Moving kinda funny this morning?”

Dewey smiled. “Part of my new plan, Doc. You know things have a way of … happening…  to me, right?”

Yes indeed.

“So I kinda slowed myself down and I do things very deliberately now. And it’s working out really well. Steve, would you pass those creamers, please?”

Steve reached across the table with the creamers and Dewey reached for them, knocking Herb’s water glass over and spilling ice water in Herb’s lap. Herb jumped up and his chair hit the busboy who dropped dishes with a tremendous crash. Once the danger of flying shrapnel was over, Mary the cook looked out into the dining room with a questioning look on her face.

Loretta said, “Dewey.”

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