The Return of Cowpoop

One day, Cowboy Bob was at The Ranch, giving Enrico the Heifer his daily spongebath, when Gordon, the town drunk, came clopping along on his pet donkey, Smallpox.

“Cowboy Bob!” Gordon bellowed from atop the grunting, braying Smallpox.  “Cowpoop has returned!  He is beating up people in The Bar and shooting up the place!”

Cowboy Bob jumped on his horse, Jackass, and rode off into town.  On the way, he found Old Man Young picking dandelions along the trail.

“Let’s go cut off Cowboop’s yeasty codpiece and glue it to his forehead,” Old Man Young said reflectively.  “Then he will be a unicorn.”

“Then we can cut off his buttcheeks with a rusty saw and make him eat them,” said Cowboy Bob.

When they got to The Bar, Cowpoop had chained Arnold Schwarzenegger to the wall and commenced to whip the shit out of him with an authentic Mexican bullwhip.  Ka-whack!  Arnold Schwarzenegger shrieked and bawled as the authentic Mexican bullwhip slashed three inches deep into his flesh, splitting his skin.  Big bloody hunks of meat flew from his back and splattered everywhere.

“Aaaaaaawwwwwwwwwwggggg!” howled Arnold Schwarzenegger.

“Cowpoop!” Cowboy Bob bellowed.  “Come over here and fight like a man, you fat, disgusting dickmouth.”

Cowboy Bob drew his pistol.  Cowpoop whipped it out of his hand with the authentic Mexican bullwhip.  Cowboy Bob screamed.  Cowpoop whipped the whip around Cowboy Bob’s neck and commenced to choke him.

Just then Old Man Young came in and pulled out his old rusty shotgun.  He pointed the old rusty shotgun at Cowpoop and pulled the trigger.  The old rusty shotgun blew up and burned all the hair off Old Man Young’s face.  Old Man Young commenced to scream as his blackened face melted from his skull.

“Arrrgh!” Old Man Young howled philosophically.  “My Old Rusty Shotgun done blowed up, and I can’t see jack shit!  I will pop your testicles for this, Cowpoop!”

“You’ll be poppin the Devil’s testicles down in the Kingdom of Hades, you filthy old pukedrinking puddle of armadillo piss,” Cowpoop said.  Cowpoop shot Old Man Young in the balls.  Old Man Young’s balls blew up like the firecrackers the Chinamen who lived in tents on the outskirts of The Town sold for a bargain, right along with Opium and Chinaman pussy.  Blood and jism and chunks of Old Man Young’s balls flew all over the place, and a stray dog commenced to eat chunks of Old Man Young’s balls and lick up his splattered blood and jizzum from the floor.  Old Man Young lay on the floor and screamed while he bled to death out of his ballsack.

Just then, Gordon came in with Jimby and Jumby.  They had heard shots and screams and whipcracks and whatnot while they off playing Pinochle on an old dry rainbarrel with Pap Jackass and Grandpa Wannabe and had come on the run.  They were covered in sweat and smelled like rubbish and armpits.  Gordon had urinated in his underwear and smelled even worse.

“I’ll kill ev’ry last one of you shitstained horse’s ass dungheap dickmouth fuckwad fagsters!” Cowpoop postulated effeminately.  He shot the hat off Jimby’s head.

Cowboy Bob shot Cowpoop in the ear.  Cowpoop’s ear blew off.

“YEEEEEEORRRRRMMMM!” Cowpoop said.  He forgot all about shooting the shit out of people.  He threw his gun down in the dirt and commenced to jump up and down with a hand over the hole where his ear used to be.  The sweet summer breeze made a sort of whistling sound in his head, and blood jetted from between his fingers.

“You shot me in the ear, you picker and eater of corn-shit kernels!” Cowpoop cooed.

“What’re we gonna do with him?” Gordon yelled over the ruckus.

“Shoot the shit out of him” said Jimby.

“Yeah,” said Jumby.

“Wait,” Cowboy Bob said.  “Tie him up.”

They talked it over and decided to do the moral thing and have him lynched without a trial.  So they tied him to a chair and sent Gordon off to get Sheriff Popooly.

“What are we gonna do about Old Man Young?” said Cowboy Bob.  Old Man Young was still conscious, having put a tourniquet around his genitals, and he was jittering and moaning.

“We’re gonna hafta put him out of his misery,” Jimby said.  “It’s the humane thing to do.”  Then he commenced to stomp on Old Man Young’s head.
Just then Gordon came back with Sheriff Popooly and Dr. Zaius.

“Don’t stomp on Old Man Young’s head!” Dr. Zaius grunted.

Sheriff Popooly came and put Cowpoop in the drunk tank and a stray dog ate Cowpoop’s ear and Dr. Zaius had to sew a piece of leather over the hole.  Old Man Young’s dick turned black and fell off from the tourniquet and Dr. Zaius took a finger off a cadaver and sewed it into his crotch half-assedly, but that eventually rotted and fell off, too, and to top it all off he had one hell of a headache.  Sheriff Popooly put Jimby in the drunk tank with Cowpoop and they buttfucked and then got into an argument and Jimby beat the shit out of Cowpoop.

“No shit packing or beating in the drunk tank, you assheads!” Sherriff Popooly gargled.

“Let Jimby out of the drunk tank, turdface!” Mayor McCheese said.  Mayor McCheese commenced to choke Sherriff Popooly.

Jimby left the drunk tank and rode Boobs back to the ranch, where everybody was drunk and playing checkers.  Gordon vomited all over the checkerboard and everybody beat him up.

THE END

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2 responses to “The Return of Cowpoop

  1. I discovered this story buried somewhere in the beautiful brain the creator of the Universe, my Father, gave to me when I was making sculptures out of my poopy the other day at the town market. I made a little model of the Parthenon out of poop and it was beautiful. Anyway, this story I think is meant to convey the truth of this beautiful universe and world of pain which God has told me to write down and tell everyone, even though god is a son of a bitch and smells. I love you.

  2. F. Rapunzel Figga

    My foot itches.

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