Black Tongue lives a pretty good ways from here. I met him in Wyoming this past February. As you can see, we are already on a first name basis and quite familiar with one another. That’s why he’s letting me hang out with him so close and on his turf. He’s a young fellow who has yet to sport the full curling horns of his daddy.
However, he has a nasty habit that is revealed by a peculiar, yet obvious, physical trait.
Now, according to my late mother, Black Tongue is a liar. As a matter of fact, Black Tongue is a sociopathic liar unable to tell the truth even when it is of the best service to all. He is a sheep steeped in deceit. If you will notice that though lacking the curling horns, he has a nasty curl to his lips as another lie is just beginning to form on them.
When I was a little boy, I never lied (much) for fear that black tongue syndrome would overtake my own tongue as my mother had threatened would be the result of too much story-telling. Through the years I have often wondered if most others I had met in my life had simply never lied quite enough to suffer the results. Now, I have finally met a victim, one who has spoken with a forked tongue once too often, Black Tongue the Teton sheep.
We’re looking into counseling at the nearby elk farm outside Jackson Hole in hopes of evading the dreaded cougar therapy. It sure is a lot of trouble that’s born from deviating from the truth.
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