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"Tarantulas!"
whinney-screamed Mober. "J
didn’t say they were tarantulas! He said they
were just spiders!" and Mober high-tailed
it to the other end of the dale, Pepper close
on her heels. "Well I guess that takes
care of that" said Granma as the J-man
came plodding up to the top of the dale from
the creek, a couple of daisies behind each
ear. "What takes care of what?" he
asked. "Well, you told Mober they were
spiders, and not tarantulas. When I said the
word tarantula, she ran off and high-tailed
it," said G. "Guess horses are afraid
of them." she said. "Duh," asked
Muff, "what’s trancherlas?"
The Big Tortilla had now climbed back upon the rock
and was calling for a counsel, surrounded by his tall
Butt-Stinger knights in black & blue. From somewhere
came the sound of a gong ….or drum … or something like that.
Clearing his throat again … the Big T extended his
furry hands and said "Sit." So Granma sat
and Julio too and all the Chips did their best at sitting.
And then the Big T. used his most imposing cave-like-caverness
echoing deep voice and commanded that the horses "COME!"
They came! G & J were really impressed. Maybe this
Tortilla guy had some magic power. The horses stood
behind G & J and were trembling, looking at the
Black & Blue Butt Stingers around the Tortilla.
Muff didn’t see what all the fuss was about.
"Aha! I see!" roars the Big T, "you
horses are afraid of us!" But then a feminine
sorta pink fuzzy tarantula crawls over the rocks and
with droopey eyed sadness says: "Poor babies ….
they don’t know. The baby Chips that we are asking
you to carry to the foot, toes and ankles of the Peppermint
Mountains do not yet have stingers. They couldn’t even
hurt a fly if they wanted to!" And you could
hear a great sigh of relief from both horses, which
sounded like … well you know how horses sound, don‘t
you? Put your lips together kinda tight and blow out.
That’s it. Then Mober began to paw, as is her wont.
So G sent her back to eat grass with Pepper. Pepper
didn’t know what was going on at all, since she is
just a baby horse. Just 2 years old at the time of
this adventure. Muff, who was a little slow,
said "Stingers?"
"Well," piped up G, "I guess we can
carry some if they aren’t too heavy. But what will
we carry them in?" The pink fuzzy lady tarantula,
that musta been the Queen, spoke up. "The reason
you have not seen me until now is that I am frail and
have been sick. I could not join you this morning to
take sustenance because it makes me throw up." (Imagine
a tarantula throwing up ! yuck) "I am very old
in tarantula years, and may not have much time left.
Please take the youngins' to the Peppermint Mountains
to carry on the Tortilla line!" she pleaded. Then
she swooned and/or fainted and several Black & Blue
Butt-Stingers carried her away on a leaf stretcher.
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