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Buzzardsville Barbecue ! Buzzardsville Barbecue !
by Leah Sellers
2020-02-21 09:49:13
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“Hank, come on down for breakfast, Hon. We gotta’ talk over a couple of things before we head on into the Restaurant,” Maybelle hollered upstairs.

As Maybelle set everything out on the Kitchen Table, Hank came plodding down the stairs. “Mornin’, Maybelle,” Hank said huskily as he poured himself a cup of hot, black coffee.

Hank took his first sip of coffee and smiling said, ’Now, that’s more like it. Alright, Hon, now I’m ready for anything you wanna’ lay on me. Boy, those buttermilk biscuits of yours smell like big ’ole lumps of Heaven. Umm-Umm, you got any of your homemade blackberry jam left, Baby ?”

rest001_400“Just go ahead and sit down at the table, Hank,” Maybelle replied matter-of-factly. “Your ham and cheese omelette is almost ready. And the jam is already settin’ in the middle of the table.”

Finally, Maybelle sat down at the table with her husband, and after taking a sip of her coffee said, “Hank we have got to do somethin’ about the Buzzards flying over in circles, and perching on the rooftop of our Restaurant each and every day.”

“Those gol’ durned birds just perch up there starin’ down at every customer who walks into our establishment to eat. Why, even our most loyal customers are beginnin’ to make jokes outloud about it.”

“Well, Maybelle I tried to get rid of ‘em for you, and you nearly took my head off,” Hank said gruffly. “You ripped my shotgun right out of my hands in front of God and everybody else chompin’ down on our Barbecue, and gave me a lecture about how important Buzzards are to our Ecological System.”

“You sounded like you’d lost your mind yakking on and on about the Cycles of Life and Death, and how Buzzards eat up all of the dead carcasses of the world helping to keep unsightly corpses from turning into germ infested maggot bags, and infecting the very water we all drink, the air we all breathe and the very ground we all walk upon.”

“Well, it’s true, Hank. The Buzzards have their Purposes to serve in Life, same as we all do,” Maybelle said emphatically. “Anyways, I am sick and tired of you men thinkin’ that killin’ somethin’ you don’t think is as important as you are is always the answer to things. ’Cause it’s not !”

“It’s much smarter and better for everybody and everything if you Work with a Thing. Try to find the bright side of a problem. The silver linin’ in the storm you find yourself in the middle of. The Yin in the Yang or the Yang in the Yin, so to speak.”

“Well, that’s the biggest bunch of ying-yang-polly-wolly bing-bang guff I have ever heard of, Maybelle,” Hank said curtly.

“Honey, the Buzzards are makin’ folks wonder about our Barbecue,” Hank said exasperatedly.

“Exactly !” Maybelle said excitedly. “So, we need to get Buzzard Power to work for us, and not against us.”

“Maybelle, you sound plumb loco,” Hank groaned. “First, the only property we could afford to buy and build on was right across the street from the City Graveyard. And so you went and called our Barbecue Place “Where Good Barbecue Goes to Die”.”

“Now, I admit that your quirky ideas worked. Folks and their kiddos seemed to like your Zombie Pig Platter and Bellerin’ Cow Chili. Your Curled Toes Fries and Vampire’s Tomato Juice Jubilees. And your Monster Mashed Potatoes with Ghost Milk Gravy,” Hank said agreeably.

“Yep, “Where Good Barbeque Goes to Die” has become one of this town’s favorite Restaurants,” Hank said appreciatively. “But, Maybelle, those Buzzards are very real. They circle in spirals above our little Place durin’ their courtin’ season, and they park on top of our roof and in our big ’ole oak trees by the dozens every day, squawkin’ and starin’ down every livin’ body that crosses our doorway to eat.”

“Heck, I saw one couple actually run from their car for the front door the other day, because one of those Buzzards is so used to dealin’ with human bein’s in our parkin’ lot, that it just hopped right on up to ’em with his ’ole wings widespread like he wanted to hug ’em,”

“It near scared those Out-of-Towners out of their shoes, and they complained most vociferously about that danged Bird as soon as they got inside the Restaurant.”

“I know, Hank. The story got back to me in the Kitchen almost as quick as it happened. But I don’t want ’em shot or poisoned or killed in any other way you can think of, Hon,” Maybelle said firmly. “I want us to work with the situation and turn it to our advantage.”

“I’m thinkin’ about re-namin’ our little Barbecue Place, “Buzzardsville Barbecue”. What do you think ?” Maybelle asked expectantly.

Hank was taken aback, and had nothing to say.

“And I’m thinkin’ about gettin’ my Bird Watchin’ Friends to put on week-end Workshops about the History, Characteristics and Habits of Buzzards. And we can make pamphlets explainin’ all kinds of things about them. You know, Hon, we can make the Buzzards an Educational and PR Project. We can popularize Buzzards, and our Buzzardsville Barbecue at the same time !”

“And, Hank, we can re-name some of our Special Plates !” Maybelle continued to muse. “Buzzard Pot Pie ! Barbecue Buzzard Wings ! A Buzzard’s Barbecued Dead Possum’s Surprise ! Chopped Barbecue Buzzard Buns !”

“Hank, where are you goin’, Hon ? We’re not through brainstormin’,” Maybelle asked.

“I’m headin’ on out to the barn to start makin’ our new sign, Hon.” Hank said with a slight grin on his stubbled face. “Buzzardsville Barbecue it is. I just have one question, Maybelle. What are we supposed to say to the Customers who ask if they’re actually eatin’ real Buzzard in your any of your Barbecue Surprises ?”

“Why nothin’, Hank. Just give ’em one of your famous grins and leave ’em guessin,’” Maybelle said with her usual Eye Twinkle.


Check Leah Seller's EBOOK
A Young Boy/Man's Rage, and A Knife He Wanted to Be a Gun
You can download it for FREE HERE!

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