Beans, Bacon, and Beer by Tina

Word Count 2,858

Disclaimer: The Lancer characters are mine…all mine. I make lots of money writing about them and plan on exploiting them from start to finish in this story. However, because it is a holiday, two thirds of the proceeds, divided equally of course, from this particular piece of writing will be donated to my southern partners in crime…err Southernfrau and FabCat. If it weren’t for the two of them…this story would not have been written, nor would it have made it to the #1 bestseller list, sold for a measly 19.95 at all the major bookstores. They are my ‘Shooper Beta’s’. They set the standard, the rules for writing incoherent, unintelligent, disrespectful and downright awful musings I have ever had the guts to put down in print.

I give fair warning, there are scenes in this short that would make a grown man puke…not once…but maybe a couple of times. With that said…You Scott gals…this is only a joke, a spoof. So lighten up and have a good laugh. You Johnny gals…this is a yarn, a satire. So get a grip, have some fun. You Jelly gals…come on…I know you’re out there…WAKE UP!!…For the rest of yah…put the booze down and try to keep up. It’ll be hard…but I know you can do it.

All events and characters are purely fictional. Any resemblance to the Lancers as we know them are gone. If you must…think of your husbands, sons, brothers, uncles or grandpa’s while reading this story. To some…the behavior displayed will remind you of one of them. (Maybe even some of the women folk too, but us true southern ladies would never admit it.)

Special thanks to Sharon C. who puts up with us, she’s an angel and has the patience of a SAINT! We love her. Also to Yankee J, she’s always willing to play and does her best to keep us on the straight and narrow. We love her too.

Last but not least…this story is dedicated to Southernfrau and FabCat, the two best cowgirls in the West. They don’t pester…they don’t bite…they expect nothing less than pure wickedness, and I can do no less than deliver. “Viva la revolución!” ………Texas


“Beans and bacon! Is that all you cooked?” Scott asked.

“That’s all I know how to cook,” Johnny replied.

“But I thought you knew how to cook chicken,” Scott said.

“What gave you that idea?” Johnny wanted to know.

“That teacher you helped out told Murdoch you cooked the best chicken she’d ever tasted.”

Johnny laughed and continued to flip the thick strips of bacon around in the cast iron skillet. “All I did was roast it over a fire.”

“Then why didn’t you roast one for us?”

“You see a chicken anywhere?” Johnny asked turning to look at his brother from the stove.

“Not in here, but there are chickens outside.”

“Then go catch one and cook it,” Johnny quipped. He turned his back to his brother and stirred the beans in the pot.

“I don’t know how to catch a chicken, let alone cook one,” Scott said.

“Then stop complaining and set the table, ‘cause tonight it’s beans, bacon and beer.”

“But beans make me flatulent and beer makes you belch.”

“Sounds like a problem,” Johnny said without sympathy for his brother’s imminent discomfort. As for his belching, that was a good thing. It meant he could eat more beans and bacon.

“You don’t even know what flatulent means,” Scott declared while he took two plates out of the cupboard and placed them on the kitchen table.

“Don’t have to know what it means for it to sound like a personal problem,” Johnny retorted mildly.

“I won’t be able to sleep if it gets bad.”

“Then I guess you’ll be up all night,” Johnny told him.

“You don’t even care, do you?” Scott asked.

“Not really.”

“That’s what I thought,” Scott said grumpily.

“Were you just wanting to hear yourself say it then?” Johnny asked.

“Did anyone ever tell you that you’re cold hearted bastard?”

Johnny stopped stirring the beans in the pot and looked toward the ceiling as if actually trying to remember if anyone had told him that. Sighing, he turned to Scott once again and said, “Yes…someone did tell me that once.”

Scott laid out the napkins and flatware on the table beside the two plates. His tone was indulgent when he replied, “It was a rhetorical question Johnny.”

“Then why’d yah ask it?”

“See?” Scott said exasperated. He took two glasses from the cupboard and set them on the table in front of both plates. From the icebox, he grabbed two cold beers and put them on the table, making sure not to jostle the bottles too much in case they should spew upon opening.

“See what?” Johnny asked.

“You don’t even know what I’m talking about and yet you persist with this conversation as if you do.”

“Supper’s ready,” Johnny said taking the beans and bacon to the table.

“Are you ignoring me now?”

Johnny set the beans and bacon down on the table and pulled out a chair to sit down. “I might not know what flachoolance means…and I might not know what rehtoracle means…but I do know what persist means, so I’m not.”

Scott sat down at the table and started spooning beans onto his plate. “You just don’t want to because I’m smarter than you.”

“No you’re not,” Johnny said loading up his plate with beans and bacon. When his plate was filled, he grabbed up his bottle of beer, pulled the stopper from the longneck and poured some over his food.

“Yes I am,” Scott said grabbing several pieces of bacon from the platter extended to him. “Thank you,” he added when Johnny grabbed his beer bottle and popped the stopper for him. He liked beer on his beans too even though he would regret it later.

“You can’t say you’re smarter than me if Murdoch and Teresa aren’t here to contradict you, which they would…if they were here.”

“So you say,” Scott commented thoughtfully as he looked down at his plate. He grimaced and asked, “What did you say this is?”

Johnny looked down at his plate and said, “Beans and bacon.”

“It doesn’t look like it.”

“Well it is,” Johnny assured him.

Scott scooped up a spoonful of the beans on his plate and put it in his mouth. The beans were thick tasting, gooey and mushy. He looked at Johnny, ready to scold.

“Don’t,” Johnny told him.

“But…” Scott said.

“You’re not allowed,” Johnny reminded. “Pour beer over ‘em and have some bacon.”

Scott swallowed his beans then picked up the black strip on his plate that Johnny indicated was supposed to be bacon. He tried to eat it but about all it did was melt in his mouth because it was mostly charcoal. The edible center had no taste at all and was so hard his teeth could barely get through it. The beans were nasty, but after adding the beer at least they were edible. Nothing like beans and beer he thought, rubbing his stomach in anticipation of finishing off every last bite.

“Want some bread?” Johnny asked getting up from the table.

“No…what I’d like is a stiff drink to wash this…”

“You know you can’t say it, so don’t,” Johnny remarked over his shoulder.



“I’ve got half a mind to tell your pa that you tried to kill me,” Scott commented as took a hard lump of bread from his brother. It was days old, hard as a rock but would soon soften up after he dunked it in the bean juice.

“He’s your pa too,” Johnny said munching on his beer soaked bread. Unlike Scott, he liked it both ways…in his beans and in his beer. At least it was a change from having to dip it in milk. He liked milk…but not when he could have beans and beer. His bacon wasn’t that bad either, even though Scott was still making faces when he took a bite.

“Can’t be related to me ‘cause I know how to cook.”

Johnny got up and got two more bottles of beer. He set down at the table again handing Scott his. “What’s that you’re always saying about being childish and immature?”

“Scott squinted at his brother, “That’s you…not me.”

“From where I’m sitting, it sounds more like you right now.”

“That’s because you cooked. If I had cooked…” Scott let the sentence hang in the air. They both knew there wouldn’t have been any complaints if Scott had done the cooking instead of Johnny.

“So…we goin’ to town after you clean up?” Johnny asked spooning beans into his mouth. He gulped down half his bottle of beer and belched while holding his tummy.

“No,” Scott replied.

“Why not?” Johnny asked him.

“I already told you. I get flatulent when I have to eat beans all the time. And besides…what girl wants to sit around two smelly men who can’t stop farting and burping all night?”

“Girls that don’t care cause we’re so cute,” Johnny said mildly. He gulped more beer and grinned when he was able to cup his mouth and burp louder than ever.

Scott leaned over with a smile on his face then sat straight in his chair with a faint hint of red coloring his cheeks. “Ouupps,” he said. He waved his hand in front of his face and smiled while rolling his eyes toward the back door. “You think I should open it?” he asked.

Johnny’s face turned green but he didn’t give his brother a rebuke for the change in atmosphere, but he did reach up and squeeze his nose closed. His voice sounded nasally when he answered Scott, “If you don’t and I light a match, it might blow the place up.”

“Guess that’s a yes then,” Scott said getting up to open the door.

He was just in time. Jelly was just coming up the walk and there were plenty of beans, bacon and beer for him too. Only he didn’t look so happy. In fact, the man looked down right mean today.

“You’re just in time, Jelly,” Scott said stepping back and giving Jelly room to get by.

Jelly hardly got through the door before he stopped and rubbed his eyes with balled up fists. “Damnation! It’s ripe in here. Worse ‘an yesterday, ‘an worse than the day before that.” He pulled out a hanky and wiped his eyes. “Good job!” he told both the boys with a big fat grin on his face.

“Grab a plate, Jelly,” Johnny said looking proud for his part in making their world just a little bit more manly while Murdoch and Teresa were away. Thank God they told Maria she could go visit with her sister, otherwise they wouldn’t be able to act like heathens and get it out of their system before the proper half of the family came home.

“You boys stayin’ home tonight?” Jelly asked while getting his plate.

“Yeah,” they said in unison. Scott was back in his seat, tucking into his beer and bacon like there was no tomorrow.

“You better hurry up, Jelly, or Scott’s gonna eat the whole mess before you get over here.”

“I’m comin’, I’m comin’. Quit yer palaverin’ and make sure he saves me some before I take this fry pan and knock yah upside the head with it.”

“Beer’s in the icebox, Jelly,” Scott commented while he sopped up bean juice and beer with his dry bread.

“Bread’s on the table,” Johnny said lifting the hard loaf off the table and hitting it a couple times on the surface. It was the best way to tell just how hard it was and if it was perfect for dipping and sopping. This was the best they’d had all week. Good and hard, just the way they liked it.

Jelly joined them at the table and soon, a full chorus could be heard clean out the front of the house, had that door been open. It wasn’t, so the only thing that heard the three men farting, belching and shuffling in their chairs was Mr. Moon and he wasn’t going to tell anyone.

With heavy lidded eyes, Johnny watched his brother squirm in his chair, grimace and try hard with mouth open to belch. Nothing worked unless it came roaring like a lion from the seat of his chair.

“You keep at Scott and I’m gonna have to put a diaper on yah.”

“You’re not much better,” Scott grumbled. “Been thinking for the past hour that you needed a bib around your neck.”

Jelly teetered in his chair, his eyes red rimmed and glassy from all the alcohol he had drank. He scooted back, waved his hand behind his bottom, belched, rubbed his stomach and without a word to anyone, walked out the back door from whence he came.

The door was wide open, as it should be since no one had closed it yet. Outside, beyond the pale light that filled the doorway, groans and grunts could be heard. The deep guttural sounds made the boys nauseated and both thought they might soon be joining Jelly out in the bushes.

“Should we leave…these?” Scott asked, hiccoughing on the last word.

“Leave what?” Johnny said closing his eyes and leaning his head back. His dark head lolled over the back of the chair slat and instantly he was snoring.

The sound was enough to make Scott look around him and make the decision himself. Leave the dishes. Heck…Teresa would be home tomorrow and she could clean up the mess. At least that’s what he told himself when he staggered out of his chair and shook Johnny.

His little brother was out of it. Out for the count, no chance of waking up. What to do now, Scott wondered. He shifted his pants, loosened a notch in his belt and grabbed hold of Johnny’s shoulder to steady himself before he fell. His pants felt like they were on fire but he just ignored it.

Shaking his head and reeling from all the beer he drank, Scott looked down at Johnny had couldn’t suppress the laugh that came gurgling up his throat. Johnny’s mouth was wide open. Scott couldn’t resist the urge. He stuck his finger in and waggled it around until Johnny roused himself and smacked him in the hand, as instantly awake as he had fallen asleep.

Scott jumped back, laughing even harder when he fell backward and landed on his butt. Johnny shot him a scathing look but couldn’t hold back his own laughter when Scott tried twice and failed to pick himself up off the floor.

Scooting back, Johnny grabbed the edge of the table and hauled himself out of the chair. On his way out of the kitchen, he laughed and called back over his shoulder, “Looks like you’re gonna have to crawl like a baby if you want to get to the great room.”

Scott was about to give his brother a sarcastic retort but couldn’t. Johnny hadn’t gone more than four steps before he tripped and fell to his knees on the floor. Damn he thought, and Teresa isn’t even there to kiss his boo boo for him.

Scott laughed so hard his stomach hurt. “Looks like you’ll be crawling too little brother. Bet I beat you to the sofa,” he said scrambling past Johnny.

Johnny tried to grab his brother’s ankle as Scott crawled past him, but lost his grip when Scott’s flatulence started acting up again. It was all Johnny could do not to throw up the bile that began to rise up in his throat. He swallowed and followed his brother into the great room. He was bound and determined to get to the sofa first.

Scott beat him though. He was older and better at this game. Wiser too, he felt sure his mother would have told him if she were alive to do so. By the time he had crawled across the kitchen, past his brother and to the doorway, he grabbed the frame and hand over hand got himself to his feet. He staggered to the sofa and dropped down like a great big bear, shot in the woods.

He could hear Johnny enter the room. Those damn spurs of his jingled and jangled like a marching band in his head. He heard him plop down in a chair, grateful to have the noise in his head lesson to a bearable level he could tolerate.

He fell asleep, dreaming, farting on the sofa, listening to Johnny belch in his head to the rhythm of little men who carried those jingling, jangling little bells he hated hearing. And someone was shouting at him, calling his name. Why was that, he thought? He smiled in his sleep. It didn’t matter; he had no intentions of answering them, whoever they were. All he wanted to do was sleep…if the voice would just let him.

“Scott! Wake up Scott!”


“Scott…son? Can you hear me?”


The voice was louder, stronger now, manly and dominate. Murdoch!

Sky blue eyes opened a peek and squinted closed just as quickly as they opened. His head was on fire, aching and feeling as if he had been split in two.

“You think he’s okay?” Scott heard someone ask. Johnny, he thought.

“I think so,” he heard his father say.

“What in tarnation is wrong with him now?” Scott heard Jelly ask from somewhere in the dark recess of his mind.

“I think he’s laughing,” Murdoch said bewildered.

Scott opened one eye. Above him hovered three faces, Murdoch, Johnny and Jelly. He smiled, or thought he did.

“Scott, can you hear me son? Are you alright?”

“I…can hear you,” Scott said slowly. His eyes began to close again, his body sinking into that soft comforting warmth of oblivion. “We have any beans, bacon and beer left.”

Murdoch frowned, looked up at Johnny and Jelly. They shrugged their shoulders and stood up.

“I don’t why he’d say that, but I’m thinking it’s time to go get Doc,” Johnny said.

“I think so too,” Murdoch replied. “Tell him to get here quick.” Murdoch leaned closer to Scott. His son seemed to want to tell him something more. He heard the whispered words, barely, and frowned more deeply.

Johnny started to leave but Murdoch called out to him before he got to far.

“Yeah?” Johnny asked coming to a skidding halt before turning around.

“Bring back some beer too.” He looked down at his blond son and shrugged, “Sounds to me like he likes it on his bacon and beans.”

Johnny stared at his father but soon turned and did what he was asked. Beer? Beans and bacon? Beer on his beans and bacon? Yuck, Johnny thought. He’d get it, but why on earth his brother wanted beer on beans and bacon he couldn’t figure out.

Johnny had a lot to learn about his new brother. He thought four months was time enough…but evidently it wasn’t. Next time he felt like playing a joke on April Fools Day…he’d make sure there wasn’t a barn door around where anyone could run into.

The End: Happy April Fools Day
Written 2006- Archived 2022


Thank you for reading! The authors listed on this site spend many hours writing stories for your enjoyment, and their only reward is the feedback you leave. So please take a moment to leave a comment.  Even the simplest ‘I liked this!” can make all the difference to an author and encourage them to keep writing and posting their stories here.  You can comment in the ‘reply’ box below or Email Tina directly.


4 thoughts on “Beans, Bacon, and Beer by Tina

    1. Thanks Rita, OMGoodness I remember writing that for a challenge. LOL….Southernfrau and I were doing our best to write something crazy and funny. I still laugh when I think on it. Thanks again and I’m super glad it gave you a good laugh too. ——– Tina 🙂


  1. Thank goodness that was a dream! I was getting a bit queasy thinking of beans, bacon, and beer eaten together! This was an enjoyable tale and thank you for sharing!


  2. Thank you so much! Yep, I still get a good laugh out of that challenge story. Have a great day! Tina 🙂


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