I ain’t one to brag. The editor asked me to write this. If you take it as boasting, you’re a failure in life. When a hunky dude does a hunky thing, it is what it is. I hope my inbox doesn’t get so full I can’t answer all the lovely ladies out there. Lock up your daughters. This story will draw them like a firefly to a gift horse or, in my case, a Mustang.
I planned on a day without worry. I sat on my porch with a cooler full of MGD and a suitable Jack Higgins novel. Yes, ladies, a hunk that reads, can it get any better? Unfortunately, I didn’t have the opportunity to crack my first page, let alone my first beer, when I got the fevered call from Beakman. It appeared he was involved with another hair-brained experiment with Sarah Jean.
It always goes this way. Sarah Jean convinces the good doctor to do something stupid, and the hunkster bales everyone out. I was going to ignore the call, but I can’t help liking the little guy, and I do look good saving the day. It was also a chance to say “I told you so” to Sarah Jean. You know the old saying, throwing two stones at a single bush, or something like that.
At first, I didn’t take the Beakster seriously. He was in a panic about being stuck in a lab collecting some data. I figured he forgot how to use a doorknob. Then I checked my Beakman-automated-locator-system, or BALS for short, and noticed he was a few miles above the ground. So I grabbed my assault rifle and mosied to my truck. Yeah, assault rifle. Nerf makes the best guns(added by the editor). I tracked him to Montana while watching the news get almost everything wrong.
I almost spit out my pink lemonade when I heard the news say it was a Chinese ballon. Sarah Jean would never work with China after being ejected from the country. They will come crawling back to TWS when they figure out how good we are. You can read about our China adventure in the archives, but I must return to the Beakman rescue.
Beakman was worried the government would blow him up. I can see why he was concerned. Biden has been trying to shut us down since the Corn Pop episode back in 2021. I located Beakman in less than an hour. I thought I made good time coming from New York. That 350 engine can haul. Ladies, keep those jets cool. I still have more of the story to tell.
When I got to Montana, I thought I would have an excellent opportunity to shoot the balloon and watch the lab gently float down onto a soft field of sunflowers. Did you know Montana is the sunflower capital of the world? I bet you did not. I am just full of fun facts. Did you know that flutterbirds love sunflowers? That presented a problem. If I shot that balloon down and it landed on a Flutterbird. Well, you know Sarah Jean. I didn’t want to deal with all that crazy, let alone the retribution. I decided to follow the lab until it was clear of anything Flutterbird.
I spent some time chatting and trying to keep the doctor calm. Talking was not easy now that I switched from truck to bareback horse. Before you go and send a bunch of hate mail. I didn’t steal the horse. I jumped on a wild mustang living in the frontier. I decided to get a little distance between me and the balloon. I knew I would need to give the horse a rest as I made my way over the eastern mountain range. The trip was longer than a single horse would allow. So I used my natural abilities to tame and procure another wild horse. Yes, ladies, I know what procure means. I also wanted to make sure I left the horses unharmed. I am all about saving horses.
I hunkered down for the night just east of the Appalachian mountains with a friendly young filly named Ginger. Don’t get jealous. I only did it to conserve some heat. My focus was my little Beaker friend and saving the day. I woke up the next morning refreshed and ready to go. The balloon was coming into view.
Those pesky Flutterbirds wouldn’t leave the balloon alone. Then I remembered the birds are not fans of the ocean. I am sure you remember the offshore windmill incident a few years back. So many Flutterbirds were murdered that fear of windmills was baked into the Flutterbird DNA. I knew at that point it was a waiting game.
I contacted the doctor to create a masterful plan of attack. He would deploy the inflatables precisely when I shot a small vent hole in the balloon. I would target the balloon so it would slowly deflate over a period of hours. This would make for a soft landing. For those that don’t know, Beakman is not a strong swimmer. I knew I would have to swim a few miles to save him. I calculated how long it would take to swim to the drop point and based my balloon penetration location on that calculation. I wanted to meet the lab precisely when it hit the water. I did not anticipate the gregarious doctor’s next request.
I am unsure if he was testing my manhood, but he requested that I save some test equipment and data collected while in flight. I then had to re-calculate how long it would take to swim out while pulling a boat. Remember, I was riding bareback while doing the calculations. It is hard enough to ride bareback but imagine taking your shoes off so you can use your toes for complicated mathematical equations. I did all the calculations and made my move. As I fired the shot, I leaped from the horse, entering the water and grabbing a line from a local boat. I placed the rope in my teeth and swam out to meet the lab. I got there just as it made the landing. Beakman jumped onto the boat while I loaded all the equipment.
We got out of there before the authorities arrived on the scene. I figured the current US administration would think I was up to no good. The last run-in with Biden and Barbie ended badly. I didn’t want to return to that Malasian institute forced to eat Russian pudding. I figure none of them would believe that I was trying to save my friend(don’t tell Beakman I said, friend). But I know you ladies do. You know what a hero I am. Send those photos to hunkyman@allstud.net.
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