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I'll Be Right Back
His name was Harky Klutzsky. He wiped the noon-day sweat from his brow. June could be rather hot and humid in the small Texas town of Cactus Flats, but Harky loved it. He loved the simple life, the down to earth people, his job of sheriff, and his lovely wife, Cindilu. Sure she was a bit ditsy and could not cook, but she was devoted to him. Besides that she was the best looking woman around for fifty-some miles.
To tell the truth Harky was a bit on the awkward side. His clumsiness would easily outdo Gerald Ford's. To the onlooker he often appeared slow and inept at his job of keeping the peace.
Sheriff Harky Klutzsky sat down at the table to eat his lunch, and he fanned himself with the latest WANTED posters. When Cindilu served the creamed pig's feet with brussel sprout sauce, he quickly grabbed his nine and a half gallon hat and headed for the door.
"I'll be right back," he said, "Deputy Dunk Turner needs these posters right now." Sheriff Klutzsky rushed out the door knocking over the vase of fresh daisies and stepping on the cat's tail on the way out.
The door to the police car would not open. He tried a second time. Then he began to kick the door.
"Anything wrong, Sweetcakes?" called Cindilu from the porch door. "If you want your keys, they're in the car. Don't worry. I locked it so they'd be safe."
Harky kicked the door again. Like magic the door on the passenger side swung open. So he got in the car, leaned across the seat, and rolled the window down. Then he tramped to the driver's side, reached in, got the keys from the ignition, and unlocked the door. "I'll be right back, Sugarlump," he called from the car window as he drove to the Sheriff's office.
Dunk hung the posters on the office bulletin board. "Nice looking fella. He's made his last 'con.' He'll be behind bars," Dunk declared. Deputy Dunk Dixion Turner knew Sheriff Klutzsky would get his man. He always did. No matter how clever, or how strong, or how mean the guy was, if he broke the law, he was as good as in the clink.
Sheriff Klutzsky headed out the door. "I'll be right back, Dunk. I've got a growling in my gut maybe Ma Perkin's Diner can fix." Harky's exit was followed by the slam of the screen door and the flapping of a dozen or more papers falling to the floor.
Twenty minutes later, Sheriff Klutzsky returned to the office with a tall, dark, and handsome man. "We're entertaining Mr. Nixion tonight, Dunk. Lock him up in the clink," said the Sheriff.
"Hey, Harky! This is that good looking fella on that poster over there. How did you git him?" exclaimed Dunk.
Harky began, "Well, Dunk. I was sitting in the Diner, polishing off a big bowl of Ma's stew. This fella came in the Diner carrying a small black bag. I asked him if the bag was his. He said that he had found it and was planning to turn it in. I told him that it looked like the bag someone was offering a 2,000 dollar reward for. I asked him to come over to the office to get his reward." Harky sighed, "Besides, I recognized him from the poster." "Now, Dunk, open the bag, count the money, call the New York City Police, and tell that old lady her savings are safe," instructed Harky.
Putting his hat on his head and adjusting his badge, Sheriff Klutzsky headed for the door. "I think I have an appetite for a piece of Ma's peach pie. I'll be right back," Harky mumbled. And as usual his exit was accented by the sound of a falling object. This time Dunk's jar of M 'n M's.
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