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Slim Randles
Slim Randles

This is going to be good, Dud thought, bringing his new tarp out to the car. There it was on that computer site. How to camp out with just a single tarp. I’ve been looking for something like that for a long time now. Amazing what you can find on the internet.

He couldn’t get Anita to go with him, because she just didn’t have the same outdoor curiosity that Dud had. Hey, it’s kinda scientific in a way, you know.

The tarp was kinda pricey, but it was worth it. It had to be big, of course, to serve as both a shelter and a bedroll, and it was made out of that spacey-kind of fabric that keeps you warm and dry in any weather.

So off he drove to the mountains, and he looked at the illustrations and set it up just the way it said to, with a big stick in the center, rocks on the edges of the tarp to keep it in place. Then, when it was time for bed, Dud smiled to himself and rolled up in a corner of it.

The guys at the Mule Barn were a bit surprised to see him back so early in the morning, as he’d told them he’d be camping out.

“You look disgruntled, Dud,” said Doc, kindly.

“I lost every gruntle I ever had, Doc. Pass the sugar, will you?”

“Didn’t you go camping with your new space blanket?”

Dud nodded.

“But it didn’t work?” said Steve.

“It worked until that wind came up.”

“What happened?”

“I know now why they call it a space blanket, because the last time I saw it, it was headed for Mars.”

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