White Man Speak with Fucked Tongue

(New television series based on Natives having won the “Indian Wars”)

Catchman Clapp and his 3-buck sidekick, Melba Toast, were lost after trying to traverse the twisting, winding, confusing turns of Mishap Canyon.

“Are we friggin lost or what?”

“Take it easy, Melba. Don’t freak out. This is the trail General Custer took.”

“Right… and look what friggin happened to him.”

“Holy J.C., Melba. Bitch, bitch, bitch… and after last night you think you’d be tuckered out by now.”

“Don’t pull that friggin Brokeback Mountain crap on me, Catch. I’ve had it up to here with this friggin excursion.”

“Bitch, bitch.”

“I’m so friggin thirsty I could drink my own piss.”

“No good, too much salt.”

The situation was becoming hopeless but, not serious. Lucky for our two anti-heroic gay caballeros, they were finally found by an indigenous type. Chief Kowabunga Cheetah Wingah deftly snuck up behind the would-be cowboy adventurers.

“White man not move, or Chief cut off balls.”

“Oh shit, Howard,” Catchman spoke, “we may be in trouble.”

“Friggin figures!”

“Whitey look pretty lost… again.”

“What d’ ya mean again?”

“Stupid fuckin’ white men on way to Bombay… get lost, wind up here. Not want admit screw-up, call us Indians. Wop tribe from Spanish reservation, name Scollumpus.”

“We heard his compass fluctuated.”

“No matter. Him make wrong turn, everyone fluct!”

“And his name was Columbus.”

“Know that. Scollumpus means stupid jerk-off asshole in our tongue”

“Oh, I see. So, what d’ ya want with us now?”

“Shut mouth, stupid white man, speak with fucked tongue.”

“I thought that was forked tongue.”

“Keep hole closed or we show you new use of fork.”

“This friggin sucks!”

“Quiet, Melba. You can’t curse your way outta this one.”

“You white men carry smallpox, yes?”

“What the hell do you mean by that?”

“Red man kick ass on battlefield, loser spread disease now.”

“You must be mad!”

“Sure sure, bullshitting lying white man. You ain’t on other show now. So… you got T.B. or what?”

“Hey,” Melba chimed in, “what do you friggin want from us, Redskin?”

“You trespassing, big mouth. I cut off big toes, feed to cat. Who this pussy, talk like squaw?”

“Let’s not get personal, pal… I’m Catchman Clapp, this is Melba.”

“Melba? Like toast? And, not pal, dooshbag.”

“Exactly.”

“Me Chief Kowabunga Cheetah Wingah. Heard of Catchman. You stay away from squaws. You sick fella.”

Melba, impatient as always, “So what’s the friggin deal, Chief? Whatcha gonna do with our friggin asses?”

“I save dumb ass. You pathetic, helpless. Can’t even find water. Him ready to drink piss. I leave you here, you die. I help you now, bound to regret later. White man always ungrateful prick! Him speak with fucked tongue. Should cut out, but is Passover. Not Kosher! Follow Chief, assholes.”

After being led out of the canyon to safety by the chief, our two subjects immediately went looking for the cavalry. They weren’t going to let that redskin get away with any of that!

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