Joe's Net
by
Robin

“Pa! Pa! Come quick!” Little Joe called as he ran into the house. “You got
to see this!!!”
Ben Cartwright ran out of the massive (like himself) Cattle Baron front door
to the Ponderosa yard to see an open wagon filled with attractive senoritas
in skintight outfits and silvery blonde Scandinavian girls in similar attire.
“Are you Mr. Ben Cartwright?” the smiling driver asked.
“Yes.” Ben smiled warmly as Joe started winking at each girl in the wagon
and distributing appointment cards that said “Joseph Francis Cartwright,
Ponderosa Ranch, Nevada Territory, I can make you swoon and die for more”, plus
their appointment time as well as directions to his hayloft of WOWza.
“Tee hee hee!” the gals all laughed, anticipating a date with handsome,
virile Joe Cartwright.
“Who are you? And who are all these attractive gals?” Ben tipped his hat.
He was very polite.
“I am Coach Pedro Lindstrom and this is the Mexican Swedish Volleyball team.
The attorney for the late Gunnar Borgstrom sent us here. He left the team to
his nephew Horse Cartwright in his will.”
”You must mean my son Hoss, not Horse,” said Ben.
”I thought that was a typo in the will. Gunnar was never a very good speller.
”
”He had pretty lousy fashion sense too,” Ben added. “He wore that red satin
shirt and Mexican sombrero and he was Swedish too!”
Hoss came around the corner of the barn. He noticed the wagonload of
attractive woman while he was single-handedly shoeing the entire corral of horses
and chopping enough wood for the entire Nevada Territory.
“Wow! A wagon load of attractive fillies! They must be Little Joe’s dates
for the afternoon gal break. That little brother of mine sure has a way with
the purty ladies.” Hoss grinned watching Joe passing out the last of his
appointment cards to Gwinilla in the last seat.
“Teee heeee!” said blonde Gwinilla, batting her black thick false
eyelashes. Joe loved those blondes with double thick black false eyelashes. The dumber
and ditzier the better. Seeing as women on the Ponderosa tended to be as
disposable, like dirty Kleenex, Joe had less remorse when a ditsy one bit the
dust than if the gal had a bit of brains. Joe liked his woman just like his
favorite Swanson TV brand dinner in shiny disposable aluminum trays -- filled
with stuffing and steamy gravy and ready to go with just a bit of heat.
“No son, those gals are not here on the Ponderosa for Little Joe.” Ben
turned to Joe and said, “Joseph, don’t chew with your mouth open.”
”Pa, I’m not chewing, I am kissing !” Little Joe answered as he kissed
Maria Madelana and hugged her twin Madelana Maria simultaneously, not an easy
task but Little Joe Cartwright was very agile and wore spandex cowboy pants.
“Looks like you were nibbling to me,” said Ben. who then winked directly at
the camera. He pulled some Frontier Binaca from his back pocket and freshen
his breath for some nibbling of his own. He might have had gray hair but he
wasn’t dead yet.
“Tee heee,” said Ingrid as she waited her turn behind Espadrilla and Sonia
Louis for Little Joe’s kissing.
“Are all these gals here to see Adam? He is on some sort of business trip to
St. Louis or or Boca Raton,” asked Hoss. “Them black dud will be mighty hot
waiting in line for the early bird special.”
“Tee heeee hheee!” giggled Burrito and Gravlox. “Ees he in Detroit to buy a
new Chevy Impala?”
“Or a Chevy Tahoe wagon with simulated plastic wood grain panels and a fold
down rear seat?” asked Bazoomella.

”No, these gals are not for Adam. Hoss, they are all here for you, son!”
Ben patted Hoss on the back affectionately. “This is the Swedish Mexican Olympic
Volley Ball team and they are all yours. They are your inheritance from your
Uncle Gunnar, son.
Hoss rolled his eyes back in his head and fainted dead away.
When Hoss came too, he was stretched out on the famous stain-proof settee
with Pa holding a cold cloth on his head. “I sent Joe to ride for Doc Martin.
He should be back in either five minutes or two days? depending.”
”Depending on what Mr. Cartwright?” Pedro Lindstrom asked
“Depending on how fast Cochise can run. He/she hasn’t had coffee yet this
morning and?”
”And what?” Pedro asked.
“Depending on if Joe finds the doctor right away and he is not out at some
nearby ranch delivering breech-birthed twins.”
“We get a lot of those around here,” explained Hoss.
Joe ignored his father’s request and rushed into the barn to quickly macramé
a volley ball net. He had learned how to do that from a passing hippie when
they had Woodstock on the Comstock with John Boy Walton?but that is a totally
other episode. As soon as he finished the volley ball net he rode into town.
“Must be those above ground atom bomb tests over near Reno,” said Ikea, the
captain of the Olympic volleyball team as she assembled new
plywood-and-vinyl oak-grained entertainment unit on the left of the MASSIVE (like the
Cartwrights) stone fireplace.
“Depending on if Joe meets up with trouble, like a bushwhacking ?
“Was he carrying a large some of money and flashing it around again?” Hop
Sing asked bringing out the Pu Pu platters and lighting the little sternos
under them. “This will tide girls over to dinner time and/or when Mr. Little Joe
comes back.”
“Depending on if Joe meets up with some escaped prisoners who coincidentally
look exactly like him and /or were previously never shown life-long friends
for whom Joe was their best man,” Ben added. “or a pretty girl or all three.”
“You said a mouthful in that last sentence, Mr. Cartwright,” Said Lekvar,
the silver blonde in the blue skintight blouse.
“Call me Ben?I may look old but I am only ten years older than Hoss, here.”
Ben smiled. “We Cartwrights mature quite young.”
“Ben,” Lekvar sighed “You said a mouthful in that last sentence,
Beeeeeeeeennnnnnn.” she drew out the last line as long as she could to get more camera
time.
“Hey, I am the voice of Canada. No line is too long, convoluted or tongue
twisting for me! Or 'pour moi' depending on what part of Canada you are from.”
”Speaking of tongue twisting?” Hoochie Mama said tugging on Ben’s
ubiquitous leather vest. “I had the next appointment. Do you think Joe will be back
soon? I am sooooooo lonely.”
“Soon, depending on if a crazed mob wants to hang him by his cute little
neck and we all have to ride into Virginia City and save him in the nick of time.
”
"Or if he get bushwhacked!" said Hop Sing, passing out Swedish meatballs on
frilled toothpicks. “We all out of pigs in blankets! Posse and lynch mob ate
all pigs in blankets and gypsy girl eat chopped liver last week.” Hop Sing
had a knack for throwing together a fine banquet any time hungry folks dropped
by.
”Pa, I never understood why we continue to live around here,” Hoss
observed. “The folks in Virginia city are so mean to us. And dumb too.”
Ben shrugged. “Land was cheap. I thought the neighborhood would improve. Mr.
Haney promised that a golf course would open. Anyway, we wouldn’t have many
stories if there wasn’t constant trouble every week.”
They heard hooves gallop up.
Gallop gallop gallop!
”Joe?” all the girls sighed melodiously in unison as the door opened.
“No, it’s me, Adam!” The eldest Cartwright brother came in, tossed his
black hat on the rack and realized that not only was his brother Hoss stretched
out on the settee but also the house was filled with attractive women. What
could be a better home coming than that? It wasn’t that often that Adam came
home to find a bevy of doomed gals right in his parlor. What a treat after a
hard day of punching cattle! Some of those cattle even punched back. He rubbed
his bruised jaw from that last punch from that white face heifer, Bossie Sue.
“What’s going on here?” Adam asked as he strode into the room holding up Joe
‘s volleyball net. “This macramé thing was hanging off the side of the barn.
I almost got caught in it.”
“This is the Swedish Mexican Olympic Volleyball team and they are all for
Hoss. They are his inheritance from his late Uncle Gunnar,” Ben explained. “
They all belong to Hoss.”
”Wowza!” Adam exclaimed. "The Olympics!" When his grandfather Stoddard
died, all he got was an old boot, a box of Mrs. Paul's Fish Sticks, a Boston Red
Socks pennant and a map of Cheers. Adam looked around and leaned manfully
against the nearest gal. “Aha! This is a volley ball net!” He leaned against
the chest of the nearest voluptuous gal.
“Teee heeee!” giggled Evita. “Meester Cartwright you lean so manfully!”

”I studied leaning in an unnamed Eastern college!” said Adam, the most
educated and perpetually leaning Cartwright. “And volley ball too!”

”You do eeet so well!” Evita swooned, running her hands through Adam’s dark
mysterious hair.”You have a wonderful net! Do you play volleyball?”
“Of course! All of us Cartwrights do! And I play the guitar too!” Adam
whispered seductively at the attractive gal while holding one hand on his hair so
it wouldn’t fall into the pu pu platter sterno that Hop Sing had set up on
the coffee table.
“Mini knishes in oven! And chicken wings too!” Hop Sing announced as he
raced back to the kitchen as the timer binged.
“Mini knishes! Chicken Wings! WOW!” Ben smiled. He would have to give Hop
Sing a bonus for that coup.

”Ay caramba! Can you show me and let me dance my hoochie mama dance in your
bedroom while you strum madrigals on your guitar?” said Evita gazing longingly
at Adam.
Adam kissed her long and sloooooooow. As always, Adam was thinking with his
lips first and then his brain.
Adam pulled away from her and gasped, “Oh no! I can’t do that!!! You belong
to my brother, Hoss! And blood is thicker than water and saliva and 78,432
other liquids including the flat beer they serve in the saloon scenes!”
“Pulque too!” said Mexicalli Rosita. She had once dated Clay Stafford but
she wasn’t going to admit to that.
“Blood is thicker than water, but not my gravy on the ligonberry burritos!”
Hop Sing said proudly. “I thicken my gravy with corn starch. Dinner is
served. You eat now or I quit.”
“But Little Joe isn’t here yet!” Ben said. “I am nervous that something
happened to my darling baby son.”
“Maybe we should saddle up and go hunting for him. We can haul him home in
that there volley ball net if‘n he got shot, or wolf bit, or both” Hoss
said sitting up and banging his balding head on the large torpedo bra-ed bazoom
of the gal who was leaning over him. A smile flashed across his face as he
fainted again. “They don’t call them torpedo bras for nothing.”
“Let’s not talk about that, thank you,” said Adam defensively.
”Pa, maybe he is having a so-called private dinner with Julia Bulette or
Lotta, the rose lady, over the saloon.” Hoss proposed.
”Maybe he is,” Ben nodded. He had been a young man once and sowed his own
wild oats once or twice or three times? he did have three sons. Matter of
fact, he and Adam’s mother were banned from all the Mc Donald’s drive-thru lanes
in the Boston Metropolitan area for staging their own “private dinners”.
Ben had been away at sea for the previous 17 months and Ben and Elizabeth couldn
’t wait until they brought their McNuggets and fries back to the Stoddard
house. They had their “private dinner” in front of a family ordering McFish
Sandwich Happy Meals during lent and the children were sure that Ronald Mc
Donald, instead of the stork, brought babies. Ben remembered that “private dinner”
as a very Happy Meal. Adam was born nine months later. None of his boys
would ever be vegetarians, especially Adam.
“Then I am serving dinner!” Hop Sing said angrily. “Lo Mein and stuffed
cabbage is getting over done! Chicken mole! Gravlox! Eat, eat!” Hop Sing urged. “
Lasagne and sushi next course!”
“Tee heee,” said all the gals as they skipped to the table, bouncing
adorably as they went into the dining room.
“Dibs on Joe’s dessert!” Hoss hollered as he raced to the table with on
pretty gal on each arm and two in each vest pocket.
“Hey you got the gals; at least let Pa and me split Joe’s dessert!” Adam
griped, slowly leaning on one of the girls.
“OK!” Hoss grinned.”I get the gals and that gal net.”
“Volley ball net!” Adam corrected.
“You divide the dessert and I get first pick,” Ben suggested wisely and
equitably.
Adam nodded. It was certainly better than holding lit matches like Pa
usually suggested. He smiled as he dug into dinner. He loved Hop Sing’s noodle
kugel and he was getting to share an extra portion of home made prune tapioca. “
Life doesn’t get any better than this!” Adam sighed, digging into his extra
dessert.

Epilogue:
The team stayed until each gal had fallen in love with a Cartwright, died
and/or left town. The Cartwrights were exhausted from all the excitement,
volley ball, romance and mini quiches Hop Sing served. Joe's hair temporarily
turned gray from exhaustion despite Adam telling him to pace himself. For three
days, after the gals left/died/disapeared, Joe slept with the precious
sentamental volley ball net.
Finally Ben said "Just keep those gals in a special place in your heart,
don't carry them on your shoulder and get to work or I'll tan your hide."
And Joe did.
THE END

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