Whoa! Check us out! It’s the 100th Story of the Week! This means something. Oh, well, moving on.
I have recently developed a love affair with a company called Peace Tea. For those of you who know me at all, this may seem a little hippie for me, but the fact is that I love iced tea, and these guys know how to do it. It is almost exactly the same as Arizona Iced Tea, pretty much the only difference being that, while Arizona Teas use HFCS, Peace Teas are made with real sugar. Boo yah. Why am I shilling for Peace Tea on my story blog? I wish I could say I’m getting an endorsement, but no. I simply bring it up to let you all know that the convenience store across the street from my work just started carrying a new Peace Tea this week, the “Texas Style Sweet Tea,” and I’m so excited about it that I’m going to write a story about Texas.
If you think that introduction is disproportionately large when compared to the reasoning, just remember that everything is larger in Texas.
TEXAS TIMMY AND THE QUID PRO QUO
Way down south where it’s hot and sticky
And tumbleweeds tumble the land
There lived a man who was mean and tricky
Who lived by the strength of his hand.
Texas Timmy they called this pest
For Timmy, indeed, was his name.
He lived in Texas, you may have guessed,
But Texas is not to blame
For the way that Timmy wound up, you see,
And that is the tale that I’ll tell.
You may not remember you heard it from me
But it’s probably just as well.
Now, Tim was like a train wreck
And every Friday night
He’d drink away his paycheck
And try to start a fight.
But, once upon a humid eve
As Timmy tied one on,
A stranger drank, then tried to leave
And just before he’d gone
He found a man was in his way,
A wall named Texas Tim
Who tried to make the stranger stay
But found the joke on him.
“I don’t like your face!” Tim cried,
Which made the stranger laugh.
And after a moment he calmly replied,
“You should see my other half.”
Of course ol’ Tim, he got confused
And then ol’ Tim got mean.
He’d never been easily amused,
And his intellect wasn’t too keen.
“I don’t know what you mean by that,”
Said Tim, “but you should know
I’m presently planning on pounding you flat.”
The stranger said, “quid pro quo.”
Tim got angry and shook his head.
“Stop using that fancy talk!
I’ll beat you within an inch of dead!”
The stranger said, “walk the walk.”
Tim screamed, “come on! Let’s go outside!
I’ll deal with your wise-crackin’ ways!”
The stranger said, “if it’s a matter of pride,
I’ll go anywhere he says.”
So out they went into the street
And everybody followed.
Tim saw just a man to beat,
Not pride there to be swallowed.
“Before I pound you just for sport,”
Tim said to make a scene,
“You seem a mouthy, egg-head sort.
What’s all that hogwash mean?”
The stranger sadly stared at Tim,
Then sadly shook his head.
No one knew what to make of him,
But this is what he said.
“When I say to ‘walk the walk,’
It means to follow through it.
You’re loud and brash with talking talk,
But don’t just say it; do it.
‘Quid pro quo’ is easier yet
And I’ll explain quite neatly.
It means I give as good as I get,
So careful how you treat me.”
Well, Tim had had enough by now
So he swung his mighty fist.
But the stranger ducked the blow somehow
And Texas Timmy missed.
The stranger then returned the swing
And rattled Timmy’s teeth.
A punch as hard as anything
Hit Tim’s jaw from beneath.
Well, Tim, he fell. And Tim, he bled.
The stranger stood and waited
While Timmy sat and held his head
And acted addlepated.
After a moment, the stranger knelt down
And just before he went,
He said, “before I leave your town,
I’ll tell you what I meant
When I said you should see my other half.”
Then he whispered in Texas Tim’s ear,
“The story might not make you laugh,
But it’s one that I think you should hear.
I came to Texas in order to find
Someone to take home to my mother.
Someone that she’d once left behind;
My long lost baby brother.
She said his name was Timothy.
She said he’d grown up mean.
She said that she was trusting me
To tell her what I’d seen.
That’s why I came, and who I found
And now before I go
And leave you bleeding on the ground
There’s something you should know.
We could have been a family.
We could have had a ball.
But I’ll give you what you gave me,
And that’s no chance at all.”
And, just like that, the stranger left
Without a backward glance
And left ol’ Texas Tim bereft
Of any second chance.
So now if you see Tim drinking here
And ask him, “what do you know?”
He’ll buy you a drink and he’ll shed a tear
And he’ll just say “quid pro quo.”
Why that turned into a poem, I’m really not sure, except that when I came up with the first line, it sounded awful poetic and the rest just sort of followed suit. Hope you enjoyed it! It WAS the 100th Story of the Week, after all. 🙂
See you soon,