Muffler Fluffer

I used this term on another forum and was asked about it so I wrote the story out to splain to him. Though some here might get a kick out of it. I'm sure OT will.

When I was a kid, my father knew this gentleman that owned a huge chunk of land in some prime hunting area. For a few years before my father's heart attack and he still could, my family would make a trip to this fellas place to hunt. We'd get there early and my father, brothers, and the land owner's sons would go hunting till lunch. I was too young to go at the time, but there were plenty of kids around the place, and we'd play. Basicly we made a weekend of it. We'd get there about 2am saturday and stay till 11pm or later, depending on how well the bs was being flung.

While they were gone Mr. King, the land owner would be cooking a deer or a hog, or both on the pig cooker. It won't like these pig cookers you see now that you hook to your truck and haul all over the place. This was a brick and cinder block, homemade pit, and wood was used to cook. One of the older kids would keep wood split, and when Mr. King would need more heat he'd hollar, "One of you younguns fetch me some wood" And all of us would run over and each grab a piece of wood to take over to him. Mr. King was a rough fella, some might take him as being mean, but he wasn't. That's just the way he talked at ya. And his wife always stayed on him about cussing infront of the kids. Was funny to see, at least of what I remember of it, again, I was real young and surprised I rember this at all.

Everybody came back right at the time the meat was being chopped. I'm not sure how they worked that out, there wasn't any cell phones then, but it never failed that they got back right as the meat was coming off the pit. Then we had a deer BBQ or hog BBQ lunch. The birds that had been shot got cleaned, a rest was taken. And later that afternoon they'd head out hunting for deer till dark. They'd come back and skin the deer if they'd been lucky and drink beer and bs, or if they didn't get a deer or two, they just drink a few, bs a lot and play with us kids.

Long story to get to where muffler fluffer came from I know, but it ain't no fun to explain it without it.

Anyway...

One night, it was just before dusk and some of us kids were waiting at the driveway, or raod, could have been called either. If you've ever watched walton's mountain, that will give you an idea of how this place was set up. While waiting there we found this stump that had a hole in it and noticed something was inside it. We were poking and proding in it with a stick tryng to figure out what kind of critter was in there. Mr. King was on the porch going at it with his wife about his cussing, causing more bad words to fling out his mouth in a couple minutes than we'd heard all day. We really didn't know what they meant, but we know they were bad words.

He notices us and finds his way to change the subject by hollering something about what us kids were messing with and he headed our way. About that time my father and the rest were walking up the road. We told Mr. King there something in there and we wanted to know what it was. He said something about getting away before we got hold of a snake or something. He grabs his son's shotgun and aims the muzzle in the hole and BOOM!!!

He says in a extra loud voice as he's cutting his eyes toward his wife, "Whatever it was, I bet that muffler fluffer's either dead, muffler fluffin' gone, or got a muffler fluffer of a head ache."

I didn't understand it then, but now that I have my kids, I know that language well.

CarolinaHound wrote:I used this term on another forum and was asked about it so I wrote the story out to splain to him. Though some here might get a kick out of it. I'm sure OT will.

When I was a kid, my father knew this gentleman that owned a huge chunk of land in some prime hunting area. For a few years before my father's heart attack and he still could, my family would make a trip to this fellas place to hunt. We'd get there early and my father, brothers, and the land owner's sons would go hunting till lunch. I was too young to go at the time, but there were plenty of kids around the place, and we'd play. Basicly we made a weekend of it. We'd get there about 2am saturday and stay till 11pm or later, depending on how well the bs was being flung.

While they were gone Mr. King, the land owner would be cooking a deer or a hog, or both on the pig cooker. It won't like these pig cookers you see now that you hook to your truck and haul all over the place. This was a brick and cinder block, homemade pit, and wood was used to cook. One of the older kids would keep wood split, and when Mr. King would need more heat he'd hollar, "One of you younguns fetch me some wood" And all of us would run over and each grab a piece of wood to take over to him. Mr. King was a rough fella, some might take him as being mean, but he wasn't. That's just the way he talked at ya. And his wife always stayed on him about cussing infront of the kids. Was funny to see, at least of what I remember of it, again, I was real young and surprised I rember this at all.

Everybody came back right at the time the meat was being chopped. I'm not sure how they worked that out, there wasn't any cell phones then, but it never failed that they got back right as the meat was coming off the pit. Then we had a deer BBQ or hog BBQ lunch. The birds that had been shot got cleaned, a rest was taken. And later that afternoon they'd head out hunting for deer till dark. They'd come back and skin the deer if they'd been lucky and drink beer and bs, or if they didn't get a deer or two, they just drink a few, bs a lot and play with us kids.

Long story to get to where muffler fluffer came from I know, but it ain't no fun to explain it without it.

Anyway...

One night, it was just before dusk and some of us kids were waiting at the driveway, or raod, could have been called either. If you've ever watched walton's mountain, that will give you an idea of how this place was set up. While waiting there we found this stump that had a hole in it and noticed something was inside it. We were poking and proding in it with a stick tryng to figure out what kind of critter was in there. Mr. King was on the porch going at it with his wife about his cussing, causing more bad words to fling out his mouth in a couple minutes than we'd heard all day. We really didn't know what they meant, but we know they were bad words.

He notices us and finds his way to change the subject by hollering something about what us kids were messing with and he headed our way. About that time my father and the rest were walking up the road. We told Mr. King there something in there and we wanted to know what it was. He said something about getting away before we got hold of a snake or something. He grabs his son's shotgun and aims the muzzle in the hole and BOOM!!!

He says in a extra loud voice as he's cutting his eyes toward his wife, "Whatever it was, I bet that muffler fluffer's either dead, muffler fluffin' gone, or got a muffler fluffer of a head ache."

I didn't understand it then, but now that I have my kids, I know that language well.

Your right. I did get a kick out of it. And I can relate to it. But did you ever find out what ws in the hole?

Old Timer wrote:

CarolinaHound wrote:I used this term on another forum and was asked about it so I wrote the story out to splain to him. Though some here might get a kick out of it. I'm sure OT will.

When I was a kid, my father knew this gentleman that owned a huge chunk of land in some prime hunting area. For a few years before my father's heart attack and he still could, my family would make a trip to this fellas place to hunt. We'd get there early and my father, brothers, and the land owner's sons would go hunting till lunch. I was too young to go at the time, but there were plenty of kids around the place, and we'd play. Basicly we made a weekend of it. We'd get there about 2am saturday and stay till 11pm or later, depending on how well the bs was being flung.

While they were gone Mr. King, the land owner would be cooking a deer or a hog, or both on the pig cooker. It won't like these pig cookers you see now that you hook to your truck and haul all over the place. This was a brick and cinder block, homemade pit, and wood was used to cook. One of the older kids would keep wood split, and when Mr. King would need more heat he'd hollar, "One of you younguns fetch me some wood" And all of us would run over and each grab a piece of wood to take over to him. Mr. King was a rough fella, some might take him as being mean, but he wasn't. That's just the way he talked at ya. And his wife always stayed on him about cussing infront of the kids. Was funny to see, at least of what I remember of it, again, I was real young and surprised I rember this at all.

Everybody came back right at the time the meat was being chopped. I'm not sure how they worked that out, there wasn't any cell phones then, but it never failed that they got back right as the meat was coming off the pit. Then we had a deer BBQ or hog BBQ lunch. The birds that had been shot got cleaned, a rest was taken. And later that afternoon they'd head out hunting for deer till dark. They'd come back and skin the deer if they'd been lucky and drink beer and bs, or if they didn't get a deer or two, they just drink a few, bs a lot and play with us kids.

Long story to get to where muffler fluffer came from I know, but it ain't no fun to explain it without it.

Anyway...

One night, it was just before dusk and some of us kids were waiting at the driveway, or raod, could have been called either. If you've ever watched walton's mountain, that will give you an idea of how this place was set up. While waiting there we found this stump that had a hole in it and noticed something was inside it. We were poking and proding in it with a stick tryng to figure out what kind of critter was in there. Mr. King was on the porch going at it with his wife about his cussing, causing more bad words to fling out his mouth in a couple minutes than we'd heard all day. We really didn't know what they meant, but we know they were bad words.

He notices us and finds his way to change the subject by hollering something about what us kids were messing with and he headed our way. About that time my father and the rest were walking up the road. We told Mr. King there something in there and we wanted to know what it was. He said something about getting away before we got hold of a snake or something. He grabs his son's shotgun and aims the muzzle in the hole and BOOM!!!

He says in a extra loud voice as he's cutting his eyes toward his wife, "Whatever it was, I bet that muffler fluffer's either dead, muffler fluffin' gone, or got a muffler fluffer of a head ache."

I didn't understand it then, but now that I have my kids, I know that language well.

Your right. I did get a kick out of it. And I can relate to it. But did you ever find out what ws in the hole?

Yeah, it was a small possum. What was left of it anyway. 20 guage buckshot does more damage than you'd think at close range. Won't a whole lot left of the stump either.

CarolinaHound wrote:

Old Timer wrote:

CarolinaHound wrote:I used this term on another forum and was asked about it so I wrote the story out to splain to him. Though some here might get a kick out of it. I'm sure OT will.

When I was a kid, my father knew this gentleman that owned a huge chunk of land in some prime hunting area. For a few years before my father's heart attack and he still could, my family would make a trip to this fellas place to hunt. We'd get there early and my father, brothers, and the land owner's sons would go hunting till lunch. I was too young to go at the time, but there were plenty of kids around the place, and we'd play. Basicly we made a weekend of it. We'd get there about 2am saturday and stay till 11pm or later, depending on how well the bs was being flung.

While they were gone Mr. King, the land owner would be cooking a deer or a hog, or both on the pig cooker. It won't like these pig cookers you see now that you hook to your truck and haul all over the place. This was a brick and cinder block, homemade pit, and wood was used to cook. One of the older kids would keep wood split, and when Mr. King would need more heat he'd hollar, "One of you younguns fetch me some wood" And all of us would run over and each grab a piece of wood to take over to him. Mr. King was a rough fella, some might take him as being mean, but he wasn't. That's just the way he talked at ya. And his wife always stayed on him about cussing infront of the kids. Was funny to see, at least of what I remember of it, again, I was real young and surprised I rember this at all.

Everybody came back right at the time the meat was being chopped. I'm not sure how they worked that out, there wasn't any cell phones then, but it never failed that they got back right as the meat was coming off the pit. Then we had a deer BBQ or hog BBQ lunch. The birds that had been shot got cleaned, a rest was taken. And later that afternoon they'd head out hunting for deer till dark. They'd come back and skin the deer if they'd been lucky and drink beer and bs, or if they didn't get a deer or two, they just drink a few, bs a lot and play with us kids.

Long story to get to where muffler fluffer came from I know, but it ain't no fun to explain it without it.

Anyway...

One night, it was just before dusk and some of us kids were waiting at the driveway, or raod, could have been called either. If you've ever watched walton's mountain, that will give you an idea of how this place was set up. While waiting there we found this stump that had a hole in it and noticed something was inside it. We were poking and proding in it with a stick tryng to figure out what kind of critter was in there. Mr. King was on the porch going at it with his wife about his cussing, causing more bad words to fling out his mouth in a couple minutes than we'd heard all day. We really didn't know what they meant, but we know they were bad words.

He notices us and finds his way to change the subject by hollering something about what us kids were messing with and he headed our way. About that time my father and the rest were walking up the road. We told Mr. King there something in there and we wanted to know what it was. He said something about getting away before we got hold of a snake or something. He grabs his son's shotgun and aims the muzzle in the hole and BOOM!!!

He says in a extra loud voice as he's cutting his eyes toward his wife, "Whatever it was, I bet that muffler fluffer's either dead, muffler fluffin' gone, or got a muffler fluffer of a head ache."

I didn't understand it then, but now that I have my kids, I know that language well.

Your right. I did get a kick out of it. And I can relate to it. But did you ever find out what ws in the hole?

Yeah, it was a small possum. What was left of it anyway. 20 guage buckshot does more damage than you'd think at close range. Won't a whole lot left of the stump either.

I saw what my uncles old 10 gauge did to a stump once. thnat darn thing was taller than I was and guess what it did to me when I got to fire it.

Old Timer wrote:

CarolinaHound wrote:

Old Timer wrote:

CarolinaHound wrote:I used this term on another forum and was asked about it so I wrote the story out to splain to him. Though some here might get a kick out of it. I'm sure OT will.

When I was a kid, my father knew this gentleman that owned a huge chunk of land in some prime hunting area. For a few years before my father's heart attack and he still could, my family would make a trip to this fellas place to hunt. We'd get there early and my father, brothers, and the land owner's sons would go hunting till lunch. I was too young to go at the time, but there were plenty of kids around the place, and we'd play. Basicly we made a weekend of it. We'd get there about 2am saturday and stay till 11pm or later, depending on how well the bs was being flung.

While they were gone Mr. King, the land owner would be cooking a deer or a hog, or both on the pig cooker. It won't like these pig cookers you see now that you hook to your truck and haul all over the place. This was a brick and cinder block, homemade pit, and wood was used to cook. One of the older kids would keep wood split, and when Mr. King would need more heat he'd hollar, "One of you younguns fetch me some wood" And all of us would run over and each grab a piece of wood to take over to him. Mr. King was a rough fella, some might take him as being mean, but he wasn't. That's just the way he talked at ya. And his wife always stayed on him about cussing infront of the kids. Was funny to see, at least of what I remember of it, again, I was real young and surprised I rember this at all.

Everybody came back right at the time the meat was being chopped. I'm not sure how they worked that out, there wasn't any cell phones then, but it never failed that they got back right as the meat was coming off the pit. Then we had a deer BBQ or hog BBQ lunch. The birds that had been shot got cleaned, a rest was taken. And later that afternoon they'd head out hunting for deer till dark. They'd come back and skin the deer if they'd been lucky and drink beer and bs, or if they didn't get a deer or two, they just drink a few, bs a lot and play with us kids.

Long story to get to where muffler fluffer came from I know, but it ain't no fun to explain it without it.

Anyway...

One night, it was just before dusk and some of us kids were waiting at the driveway, or raod, could have been called either. If you've ever watched walton's mountain, that will give you an idea of how this place was set up. While waiting there we found this stump that had a hole in it and noticed something was inside it. We were poking and proding in it with a stick tryng to figure out what kind of critter was in there. Mr. King was on the porch going at it with his wife about his cussing, causing more bad words to fling out his mouth in a couple minutes than we'd heard all day. We really didn't know what they meant, but we know they were bad words.

He notices us and finds his way to change the subject by hollering something about what us kids were messing with and he headed our way. About that time my father and the rest were walking up the road. We told Mr. King there something in there and we wanted to know what it was. He said something about getting away before we got hold of a snake or something. He grabs his son's shotgun and aims the muzzle in the hole and BOOM!!!

He says in a extra loud voice as he's cutting his eyes toward his wife, "Whatever it was, I bet that muffler fluffer's either dead, muffler fluffin' gone, or got a muffler fluffer of a head ache."

I didn't understand it then, but now that I have my kids, I know that language well.

Your right. I did get a kick out of it. And I can relate to it. But did you ever find out what ws in the hole?

Yeah, it was a small possum. What was left of it anyway. 20 guage buckshot does more damage than you'd think at close range. Won't a whole lot left of the stump either.

I saw what my uncles old 10 gauge did to a stump once. thnat darn thing was taller than I was and guess what it did to me when I got to fire it.

Sat you down and possibly rolled you over. hehehe...

That was the best and funniest story I have ever read on a forum, doggieboy.

*Although......PIOTB has a few good ones, as I recall...but not as "homey" as this one, lol*

LMAO I loved this story. I could see it all in my head as I was reading it and that is the mark of a story well told.

HotParadox wrote:That was the best and funniest story I have ever read on a forum, doggieboy.

*Although......PIOTB has a few good ones, as I recall...but not as "homey" as this one, lol*

LMAO I loved this story. I could see it all in my head as I was reading it and that is the mark of a story well told.

Thank you HP. I really used to love going to his place. He was a cool man too. Like I said, rough, and at first you'd think he was mean as hell. But he wasn't. I remember one time he'd come in on mama telling me to stay out of the candy dish, and that I couldn't have any before I ate. He walks over to the dish and grabs a handful, sort of sneared at me and said he was grown and won't nobody telling him when he could have candy. He popped one in his mouth and grinned at mama. Soon as mama looked away he dumped the rest of the handful into my pocket. And told me to go outside cause he was tire of me. lol

CarolinaHound wrote:

Old Timer wrote:

CarolinaHound wrote:

Old Timer wrote:

CarolinaHound wrote:I used this term on another forum and was asked about it so I wrote the story out to splain to him. Though some here might get a kick out of it. I'm sure OT will.

When I was a kid, my father knew this gentleman that owned a huge chunk of land in some prime hunting area. For a few years before my father's heart attack and he still could, my family would make a trip to this fellas place to hunt. We'd get there early and my father, brothers, and the land owner's sons would go hunting till lunch. I was too young to go at the time, but there were plenty of kids around the place, and we'd play. Basicly we made a weekend of it. We'd get there about 2am saturday and stay till 11pm or later, depending on how well the bs was being flung.

While they were gone Mr. King, the land owner would be cooking a deer or a hog, or both on the pig cooker. It won't like these pig cookers you see now that you hook to your truck and haul all over the place. This was a brick and cinder block, homemade pit, and wood was used to cook. One of the older kids would keep wood split, and when Mr. King would need more heat he'd hollar, "One of you younguns fetch me some wood" And all of us would run over and each grab a piece of wood to take over to him. Mr. King was a rough fella, some might take him as being mean, but he wasn't. That's just the way he talked at ya. And his wife always stayed on him about cussing infront of the kids. Was funny to see, at least of what I remember of it, again, I was real young and surprised I rember this at all.

Everybody came back right at the time the meat was being chopped. I'm not sure how they worked that out, there wasn't any cell phones then, but it never failed that they got back right as the meat was coming off the pit. Then we had a deer BBQ or hog BBQ lunch. The birds that had been shot got cleaned, a rest was taken. And later that afternoon they'd head out hunting for deer till dark. They'd come back and skin the deer if they'd been lucky and drink beer and bs, or if they didn't get a deer or two, they just drink a few, bs a lot and play with us kids.

Long story to get to where muffler fluffer came from I know, but it ain't no fun to explain it without it.

Anyway...

One night, it was just before dusk and some of us kids were waiting at the driveway, or raod, could have been called either. If you've ever watched walton's mountain, that will give you an idea of how this place was set up. While waiting there we found this stump that had a hole in it and noticed something was inside it. We were poking and proding in it with a stick tryng to figure out what kind of critter was in there. Mr. King was on the porch going at it with his wife about his cussing, causing more bad words to fling out his mouth in a couple minutes than we'd heard all day. We really didn't know what they meant, but we know they were bad words.

He notices us and finds his way to change the subject by hollering something about what us kids were messing with and he headed our way. About that time my father and the rest were walking up the road. We told Mr. King there something in there and we wanted to know what it was. He said something about getting away before we got hold of a snake or something. He grabs his son's shotgun and aims the muzzle in the hole and BOOM!!!

He says in a extra loud voice as he's cutting his eyes toward his wife, "Whatever it was, I bet that muffler fluffer's either dead, muffler fluffin' gone, or got a muffler fluffer of a head ache."

I didn't understand it then, but now that I have my kids, I know that language well.

Your right. I did get a kick out of it. And I can relate to it. But did you ever find out what ws in the hole?

Yeah, it was a small possum. What was left of it anyway. 20 guage buckshot does more damage than you'd think at close range. Won't a whole lot left of the stump either.

I saw what my uncles old 10 gauge did to a stump once. thnat darn thing was taller than I was and guess what it did to me when I got to fire it.

Sat you down and possibly rolled you over. hehehe...

Yep it sat me down, stood me up and sat me down several times and not to mention rolling like a tumbleweed. Felt like it just about took my shoulder off to. That shoulder turned and stayed the prettiest shade of blue, green and purple you ever did see. Hurt like the dickins for about a month to. Well he warned me but I just wouldn't listen. At 12 I was big for my age and thought I could do anything like a grown up. After that when he told me something I listened.

CarolinaHound wrote:

HotParadox wrote:That was the best and funniest story I have ever read on a forum, doggieboy.

*Although......PIOTB has a few good ones, as I recall...but not as "homey" as this one, lol*

LMAO I loved this story. I could see it all in my head as I was reading it and that is the mark of a story well told.

Thank you HP. I really used to love going to his place. He was a cool man too. Like I said, rough, and at first you'd think he was mean as hell. But he wasn't. I remember one time he'd come in on mama telling me to stay out of the candy dish, and that I couldn't have any before I ate. He walks over to the dish and grabs a handful, sort of sneared at me and said he was grown and won't nobody telling him when he could have candy. He popped one in his mouth and grinned at mama. Soon as mama looked away he dumped the rest of the handful into my pocket. And told me to go outside cause he was tire of me. lol

Aww, that's actually very sweet. Sounds like he was a 'rough' Mr. Wilson type. And you are were like Dennis the Menace.

HotParadox wrote:

CarolinaHound wrote:

HotParadox wrote:That was the best and funniest story I have ever read on a forum, doggieboy.

*Although......PIOTB has a few good ones, as I recall...but not as "homey" as this one, lol*

LMAO I loved this story. I could see it all in my head as I was reading it and that is the mark of a story well told.

Thank you HP. I really used to love going to his place. He was a cool man too. Like I said, rough, and at first you'd think he was mean as hell. But he wasn't. I remember one time he'd come in on mama telling me to stay out of the candy dish, and that I couldn't have any before I ate. He walks over to the dish and grabs a handful, sort of sneared at me and said he was grown and won't nobody telling him when he could have candy. He popped one in his mouth and grinned at mama. Soon as mama looked away he dumped the rest of the handful into my pocket. And told me to go outside cause he was tire of me. lol

Aww, that's actually very sweet. Sounds like he was a 'rough' Mr. Wilson type. And you are were like Dennis the Menace.

LOL My mama used to call me Donald the menace when I was a kid.

CarolinaHound wrote:

HotParadox wrote:

CarolinaHound wrote:

HotParadox wrote:That was the best and funniest story I have ever read on a forum, doggieboy.

*Although......PIOTB has a few good ones, as I recall...but not as "homey" as this one, lol*

LMAO I loved this story. I could see it all in my head as I was reading it and that is the mark of a story well told.

Thank you HP. I really used to love going to his place. He was a cool man too. Like I said, rough, and at first you'd think he was mean as hell. But he wasn't. I remember one time he'd come in on mama telling me to stay out of the candy dish, and that I couldn't have any before I ate. He walks over to the dish and grabs a handful, sort of sneared at me and said he was grown and won't nobody telling him when he could have candy. He popped one in his mouth and grinned at mama. Soon as mama looked away he dumped the rest of the handful into my pocket. And told me to go outside cause he was tire of me. lol

Aww, that's actually very sweet. Sounds like he was a 'rough' Mr. Wilson type. And you are were like Dennis the Menace.

LOL My mama used to call me Donald the menace when I was a kid.

What do you mean was a kid? Your just like me, still a kid.

True dat!

CarolinaHound wrote:True dat!

And I just don't have any plans to grow up yet either.

Old Timer wrote:

CarolinaHound wrote:True dat!

And I just don't have any plans to grow up yet either.

Amen!

CarolinaHound wrote:

Old Timer wrote:

CarolinaHound wrote:True dat!

And I just don't have any plans to grow up yet either.

Amen!

Yep I am having to much fun being in my first childhood so far and I don't see any reason top change just yet.