When the pig appeared on stage as the final auction item, Plumb Bob rasped his vow to have that cute little thing.
The clamorous crowd cheered as the auctioneer kicked into gear. A young grunter of this pig’s peer would normally sell for about thirty-five dollars, which is where the bidding began.
Plumb Bob (his name is explained elsewhere in the story), seldom reserved, loudly announced that he would bid three hundred bucks right away, muttering something about how he would have that beautiful little pig, by gosh and by golly. (Actually, his words were a bit more irreverent than that, and therefore censored for the benefit of the reading public.)
The bidding continued at a fast and furious pace, with others counting on Plumb Bob’s stubbornness to bail them out of their ridiculously high bids. At seven hundred fifty dollars the gavel was dropped, finalizing the sale, and Plumb Bob had his pig. Wives of competing bidders were relieved and some were heard promising not to slaughter their husbands once the gavel had fallen and their family finances were no longer threatened. No doubt they were also relieved that the pig would not be sharing their company for the trip home. But the crowd was on a collect roll and insisted, then dared, that Plumb Bob and Tundra Plumb (his wife Janet’s nickname also explained elsewhere in the story) go on stage to receive the prize.
With significant difficulty, they negotiated the short flight of steps to the stage, which seemed to be moving, according to Plumb Bob (The winning couple was “drunk as a skunk,” which is explained earlier in the story). The smiling auctioneer handed the panicky pig to Tundra Plumb, who tucked it securely under her arm as the crowd chided Plumb Bob for letting himself be suckered in on the criminally inflated bid.
My good friend, Plumb Bob, is not one to take any guff without retaliation. A few years before, Plumb Bob had been ordered off an Alaska Airline jet for mooning a stewardess that he judged to be rude. With a booze generated, vacant stare, Plumb Bob turned his posterior to the crowd, bent over and dropped his drawers. As the crowd’s hooraws reached a crescendo, the panicked porker let forth a blast of diarrhea, some of which landed on Plumb Bob’s head. Janet’s dress was seriously defiled by her new pet’s offal and the crowd went ballistic.
In their inebriated, and now thoroughly soiled state, the winning couple was not offered assistance as they stumbled off the stage. In fact, everyone gave them an extra wide berth, as one might expect for royalty. Actually, the crowd’s concept of chivalry did not include such a personal sacrifice…or risk of fecal contamination.
The designated driver, Roscoe, keeping his distance and traveling faster than the speed of smell emanating from his employers, had honored his assignment as designated driver and called to the pair to follow him to the truck. Plumb Bob and Tundra Plumb, frequently caroming off the side of the building, drew the attention of a local policeman who confronted the trio, but was placated by the earnest supplications of the still sober driver, Roscoe.
Roscoe, with his charges safely seated inside the cab of the brand new Chevy pickup truck, locked the passenger door, opened the windows to gain as much respiratory relief as possible, and drove home. By then, the poor piggy was stressed out big time, but far from devoid of offal ammunition. The little swine voided once more, festooning the interior of the new Chevy with its excrement. Plumb Bob and Tundra Plumb were too sedated to notice.
(The story gets better…or worse, depending on how you look at it. But funny regardless!)
You can read about Jake’s experiences in his five books – Alaska Tales, Alaska Flying, Alaska Bears, Kodiak Alaska Deer, and Alaska Hunting. Each book has over 200 pages including photos and all five are available in the Sporting Classics store. Buy Now
