"Hey, Ap, look who's comin'."
"It's ol' Zeb. You mean he's a horse whisperer now?"
"Well, he starved to death tryin' to rodeo, he proved it was a hard way not to make a livin'. Then he did farriery for a little while but people couldn't have their horses lame that long. Seems like he had a race horse till the track vet caught him spikin' the punch. Last I heard he was a cowboy poet."
"At least his wife had a job."
"Yeah, when he had a wife."
"So now he's a horse whisperer?"
"A horse mumbler's more like it."
"How'd he learn? Go to Equine Communication School?"
"Are you kiddin'! School! Naw, he just hung around a Ray Hunt clinic for half a day ...you know he wouldn't pay to get in...and went to that movie. He figgered he needed a marketing gimmick. Ya know, some guys use a bullwhip or a saddle blanket or a flag. And Zeb, he wanted to be unique so he uses a big rubber bucket. His phone number is painted on the side. It's a little awkward but he's not too agile anyway so it looks natural on him."
"Look! Here he comes!"
"My gosh, what's that on his head? Looks like a Darth Vader mask with antennas!"
"Listen, he's explaining to the crowd that he has learned the language of the horse and his mask translates what he says into equine idiotic waves that horses can understand."
"Hm, sounds like a duck to me. Uh, oh, he's getting out the bucket and heading our way!"
"Whattya reckon we should do?"
"All the local promoter said we have to do is trot around in a circle for a while, kinda act frisky, then jump in a trailer."
"What's the purpose of all this?"
"To make the equine idiotic wave operator look good."
"Whatever, it's not a bad day job and it sure beats workin'."
"Yeah, that's what ol' Zeb would say."