Slim was an infamous rogue dentist who dressed like the legendary cowboy, Pecos Bill.
He possessed the deceptive skills of a master con artist and had a booming voice reminiscent of a carnival barker at a girly show.
Traveling in a covered wagon, he tirelessly roamed the states of Nevada and Arizona, ceaselessly searching for his next unsuspecting mark.
You could hear him coming from miles away as one of his wheels was square-shaped, causing him to bounce at each rotation like a Jack-in-the-box as his pots and pans played an unworldly sound.

"Step right up, ladies and gents! Receive top-notch dental treatment absolutely free!" Slim's charismatic voice boomed through the air.

The only catch was that Slim pilfered any gold teeth his patients possessed, promptly replacing them with pyrite, convincing the hapless victims that this new dental marvel was far superior to their original teeth because it hailed from New York City.

On his 2nd day in town, Slim notices the Sherriff standing in the crowd looking through the wanted posters while rubbing his chin. Slim knew that warning sign and closed shop and moved to the outskirts of town. After sneaking back into town for one last round, he planned to leave in the morning.

Meanwhile, across town, Jeff, a stupid kid, played in the sand, looking for stuff all day long. This easily swayed young lad spent his days tirelessly scouring the ground for trinkets and treasures. Arrowheads and discarded bottle caps were the extent of his findings until one fateful day when something glistened back at him.

"Well, hello there, my shiny beauty," Jeff murmured, instantly captivated by the shimmering object as he quickly drew his Colt and looked around for claim jumpers like a bobble toy on crack. "Gold, gold. It's mine, all mine." shouted this Ben Gunn-type young lad.

From that moment forward, an insatiable obsession with shiny things consumed Jeff's thoughts. Driving him to sing a peculiar little ditty that reflected his fixation. With a gleeful expression, he would repeat the lyrics, "Twenty-eight grams, and what do you get? Another ounce of shiny, and yeah, you're gonna get wet."

The catchy tune echoed throughout his day, a testament to his deep fascination with all things shiny. And so he began to Dig, and Dig, until he heard the Tommyknockers and hit solid rock and the dreaded Red Worms. Jeff ran from the mine and headed to the bar for a drink the size of Montana and his other source of gold.

By a twist of fate, Slim and Jeff found themselves that night beneath the floors of the Red Dog Saloon, desperately searching for gold that had slipped through the cracks. As luck would have it, they crawled toward each other from opposite sides of the Saloon.

"Hey, chump, who are you, and what brings you down here?" Slim whispered, suspicion tainting his words. Both men instinctively reached for their guns, only to find themselves thwarted by the confined space.

As tension filled the air, a fortuitous turn of events occurred. Gold dust and pickers began to trickle down from the cracks in the floorboards, catching the attention of both Slim and Jeff. Without hesitation, they locked eyes and scrambled toward the precious metal with reckless abandonment, their heads colliding with a resounding thud that rendered them unconscious.

The following morning, the crowing of a rooster pierced the silence, stirring both men back to consciousness.

"Oh, my throbbing head," groaned Jeff, rubbing his temples in pain.
Both men gathered what gold they could and scampered out into the morning's first light and proceeded to wrestle in the dirt for a few minutes until they were exhausted.

"Listen, you low-down skunk breath-bag of bones- pole-cat. The names Jeff and I need a partner.
"Never call me a bag of bones again, or I'll yank every tooth from your head, and the names Slim."

"Listen, I got a claim, and there is lots of gold. I need help to bring it out, and we will split it 50/50. You know anything about blasting?"

"Well, it appears I am out of work, and yes, I will be much obliged to you and your kind offer. I was a Master Blaster back in West Virginia.

So the two became friends and worked like dogs for six months at Jeff's mine, the Wahooo.

Beans and more beans were the fuel that kept the two friends nourished while providing a solution to some mysterious red worms everywhere in the mine. Slim found a method where he would eat a few pots of beans, walk into the shaft, and let loose. The worms didn't stand a chance. They were gone like Flint.

But the Tommyknockers proved quite challenging to quiet, persistently hiding tools and extinguishing lamps. These mischievous little spirits enjoyed toying with miners' minds, yet they never displayed malicious intentions. Now and then, Jeff and Slim would catch snippets of voices or unfamiliar music wafting from the depths of the mine shaft, causing the hair on their arms to stand on end.

On a bright, sunny afternoon, as they sat beneath a towering cottonwood tree, savoring their meal of beans, the Tommyknockers yearned for some playtime.

"Did you hear that, Slim?"

"Yep. You go check it out."

"Me? You're sitting closer to the mine. No, you go."

"No, you."

"What a sissy. Ok, Slim, I'll go, but if you hear me scream, you had better come running."

Jeff picked up a shovel and walked tall like John Wayne, but his legs began knocking like woodpeckers.

Jeff walked slowly down the dark shaft, carrying a torch and his shovel at the ready. All was good until about halfway through, then the Tommyknockers started. Initially, his torch went out, and all the other torches turned on and turned off/on/off up and down the shaft steadily as drums and bagpipes started playing.

"Crap. Shit, shit, shit. SLIM?"

Just as Jeff turned to run out, snow began to fall all around him and covered the entire mine.

"SHIT!"

Jeff ran as fast as he could, and by the time Jeff was almost out, he looked like the Abominable Snowman, just as a large animal crossed his path.

"What in the hell was that?" Jeff screamed as he reached the entrance.

Once outside, Slim was nowhere to be found until Jeff looked at the top of the cottonwood.

"Jeff, is that you?"

"No, it's Santa Clause. You old fool. Of course, it's me."

"What in the hell happened in there?" Slim said as he climbed down." Lighting and thunder shot out from the mine, like the 4th of July, then I hightailed it up here, just before the sheep come running out of there."

"Sheep? What sheep?"

"Yep, a bunch of 'em."

Sure enough, fifty-two sheep stood off to the side.

"Well, Slim, I'll tell you what happened. Try snow in July, along with a marching band, was, I must tell you, quite an exhilarating experience. I think I messed my drawers, and I am not sure, but I think a moose shot passed me like a racehorse.

The two began to walk in circles, and by the time Jeff had thawed, they both turned to the other and said, "Come on, let's go."

The two decided right then and there that this mining trip was over and covered the entrance in animated double time.

Sundown was approaching.

So, Jeff and Slim loaded Buster the mule with all their diggings and sat down near the fire for one last pot of beans.

"Now, if that ain't a sight to make you smile, then I don't know what is. Behold, Slim, we are going to live hi on the hog. For sure, darn tooting, for sure. Hey Slim, where are you off to, partner?

"Gotta make sure Busters racked up and use the honey pot."
Slim takes a quick pick over his shoulder at Jeff, then scurries into the darkness.

Jeff's voice gets louder as Slim disappears from view.

"Good idea, Just think of it, Slim, in two weeks, will be walking the streets of San Francisco with a gal on each arm. You know we've earned it, and no more beans. No more beans. Praise Heaven for all we've found... Yes, thank you, God. Thank you." Jeff stands and looks into the night.
Slim, where are you? Hey Slim?"

Silence crept in as Jeff listened for Slim. "Hey, partner? Slim? That booger, where is he?

"Here I am. So let's finish those beans."

"Now you talking Slim."

For the next hour, Slim and Jeff chawed the fat like auctioneers at a
penguin convention, trying to sell ice cubes. Every subject, from painted women to ghost stories, was covered. All was going good till Slim let another one rip, only this time he was sitting too close to the firepit, and it erupted like Krakatoa, causing Buster to spook and take off for the hills.

"I thought you checked him? Well, Slim, you chump! There goes all our gold, and we worked too hard to let some dumb ass take it from us. So you know what I'm going to say... don't you... So come on... Let's go."

"No, I'm bushed, Busters too stupid to go too far. You go after that damn mule. I need some shut-eye. You go on. Good night pardner."

What? You must be kidding. I can't believe you'd let all that gold just run away. You, my friend, are a fool. Suit yourself, chumpâ?"Adios, loser. See you in the morning.

So Jeff took off.

Slim wasn't as tired as he let on and began to gather his remaining things into his wagon.