Bingo

Page 7

Coyote goes to court for excessive bingo playing

Another winner goes berserk as a singed cat at the latest money-making enterprise that's got us by the numbers, so to speak ? bingo addiction.

"Bingo!" One more winner waltzes away handsome with a TV, a new car, even a cancerbox to zap the fella's chow with gamma rays, as we fall for the presidential actor's private sector push.

Bing-oh, but the real winners are the kids who are sailing right along in turn with the councilmen cry ? that our youth are the best resource we got.

Our future.

So, our children are reaping wonderful benefits in being abandoned on bingo night; starved on bingo night; and neglected on the night of bingo, because there are no spuds in the house and no parents to cook them.

It's the way the other world like to see us win the game: competing against ourselves. Trouble is, w can unknowingly end up in jail no matter how shiny the brand new car.

The winning spirit was hammered away at on the lake Pasture, where Coyote was charged with abandonment. He had spend a whole week at the tribal bingo parlor, day and night, after hawking his truck tires, a rifle and good hat. He sold his mate's beadwork and only dance dress. Even swapped the pups' toys for a chance to clean up on the prizes.

He forgot his family, and all the while was paid regular as director of the Poaching Industry.

Coyote looked sorely uncomfortable in tribal court the other day before the Hornable Judge Angus Bullneck. His ears were bent down like a shot-up cornstalk. His shattered eyes strained to huddle in their sockets. The defendant swore to tell the truth in the scraggly, anyway.

"You are hereby charged," bellered Judge Bullneck, "with abandoning your pups and the womans."

"I didn't abandon them!" helped the bingo champ. "I was working for big money."

The judge started at this defiance, and with a deadeye, bellered, "You mean you got a job down there?"

"Just the big-money prize. And it's waiting for me."

The judge swore, "Dang it, your mate has made a complaint that you spent all the money! You never came home! And you left them without chow!"

"I bought groceries a month ago."

"With what?"

My poaching salary. Look judge, I feed my family real good with the $34,000 I make heading up that enterprise. Same salary councilmen make. You know how good they eat."

"Whaddya do shop once a month?"

"Twice."

Finally, Coyote's mate was called to the witness stand, followed up by Joe Cowleg, who had brought in a cart full of bingo cards as proof she was second in Coyote's heart. She swore before the bull judge that her testimony would be in the berserk.

"You say Coyote abandons you on bingo night ? every night might as well say."

"You bet," yipped the witness. "He doesn't come back for days. And we got nothing to eat."

"You ever see his paycheck?"

"What's a paycheck? I don't even know when payday is. Always down the massage parlor. Pays them womans to rub his skinny back. Then he trots out to the Branding Iron, shootin' pool and guzzlin' up the Alfalfa Lites."

"Now he's all the time at the bingo parlor," bellered Judge Bullneck.

"You bet. Every chance, every penny he gets. He sold everything from our den, our clothes and furniture, the pups' stuff. Just so he can win the big prize, he says."

By and by the tribal judge bellered out his decision: Coyote, you are hereby ordered to stay outa the bingo parlor a year! Your check will be mailed to your mate. And you only get an allowance!

"You are also ordered to do volunteer work at the massage parlor ? rubbing the councilmens' backs for one year."

"Bingo!" yelped the defendant.