SODITCH

A bulldog bursts through the saloon doors riding a miniature horse. He’s wearing a cowboy hat and a bandana, and has a tiny lasso hanging from his collar. “Yeehaw!” he barks, “Gimme the strongest sarsaparilla in the West, and make it a double!” The bartender drops a glass, sputtering, “But… but you’re a bulldog! And that’s a horse!” The bulldog just winks, “So? Never seen a bulldog with aspirations of being a cowboy before? I’ve always had a thing for hats and horses. Besides, who needs a trusty steed when you can have a trusty bulldog? I’m telling you, I’m the next Clint Eastwood, but with more drool and less squinting. I’ve been practicing my draw, too. Not with guns, of course. That’s cruel. I use squirt guns. I’m the fastest bulldog in the West with a water pistol. I can take out a whole saloon full of outlaws before they can even say ‘howdy.’ And don’t even get me started on my roping skills. I can lasso a fly from across the room. Well, maybe not a fly. But I can definitely get a squirrel. Or a particularly slow-moving chipmunk. I’m not bragging or anything, just stating facts. So, how about that sarsaparilla? I’m parched.