Vail elk stories: Sisterhood of the Traveling Bar Stool
Vail, CO Colorado
VAIL, Colorado ” The Vail Daily would like to thank all its readers, large and small, for participating in our bar stool elk contest. There were more than 60 great stories and poems. You gave us, and surely the community, a good laugh.
So you think just one cow elk has been sporting this bar stool? Think again. Every day, a different cow elk has been proudly adorned with the symbol of their bond. It happened one night….
A group of cow elk eavesdropped into a home that was watching the Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants in hi-def. So inspired, they decided to do something similar to express their sista-hood.
Not able to wear a pair of jeans, even with the new straight legs back in style, they had to find something else.
Grazing the grass, which had newly appeared in the downvalley back yards, the bar stool was spotted. It was decided among the group that it could easily be passed back and forth, thus, the traveling bar stool was born.
Each night a ceremony takes place where the stool is passed from one cow elk to the other. A small mark is made during the day by the wearer, making it that much more special when it is passed along. Some scratch it against a tree, some have their boyfriend imprint their antlers into the stool, while others simply drag it in the mud. Either way, they all have left their mark on the stool, which is a traveling bar stool membership requirement.
If you’re very quiet at night, you can hear the laughter and crying going on as they pass the stool back and forth. Amazingly, it fits each cow elk perfectly.
The stool has connected them in ways they never thought possible.
” Carol Johnson
Someone call C.S.I., because I have a case for them. Local elk, Ele Horn, was caught yesterday, thus solving the case of the mysterious seven missing stools. A case that Scooby Doo himself couldn’t solve.
When she was brought to plead innocent her excuse was that she was playing Scrabble. However, pro lawyer, Su Yue, was able to prove that elk don’t have opposable thumbs, thus proving her statement false.
Just recently a picture of the culprit was released to the public. Crazy Louie took it while he was saying good morning to anything and everything he could think of. The photo clearly shows Ele with a stolen stool around her neck. The stool was identified as a golden plated oak classic, the estimated value for this stool is $890,980,789.07.
After hours of questioning Ele pleaded guilty and will now be spending the next 697 years, 3 months, 1 week, 5 days, 4hours, 37 min, and 18 seconds in jail.
The owner of SitOnStools is willing to charge her a mere $680.67 for the crime. The only problem is that the stool is stuck on Ele’s neck. Stay tuned to hear what happens next in the amazing story of an elk and a stool.
” Erik Hilb
My name is Katniss. I’m an elk and I am always getting into trouble. Let me put it this way… I am either in trouble or about to be. I prefer hanging out with the bucks because all of the girls think I’m…well… they just don’t like me.
Today I was talking with some of my friends when a stranger showed up. No one knew who he was, and then Bo murmured, “Hi, Brock. What’s that on your head?” Brock’s antlers had grown in! I won’t lie, I was jealous. And, yes, I know I’m a girl, but I want antlers!
Then I said the stupidest thing ever, “What’s so special about your antlers?” Dang it! I’m an idiot. At this point, there was no going back. I braced myself for his response.
“Well then, if they’re nothing special how come I can beat you in any fight?”
“Maybe you can’t!! In fact, let’s fight tomorrow by the old willow.”
As I said earlier, I’m either in trouble or about to be. After the fight had been arranged, Rick pointed out that I couldn’t fight because I didn’t have antlers and everyone knows that antlers make the difference in a fight. He had a very good point. I set off to find a pair of antlers. My instincts led me to the dump. I looked around…a diaper…a lunch box…BINGO! The perfect antlers; a bar stool.
I got it on. Well, not exactly on! It’s now around my neck. I’m definitely in trouble, or about to be. Well, it’s nothing new. But, I’m wondering, “What now?”
” Logan Carlson
Recently, vicious and conniving poachers pinged Mr. Larry the12-Point Elk with a sleeping dart. They sliced the rack from his head and left him to wake up, antler-less and immensely emasculated.
Upon mental recovery from his initial state of shock, Mr. Elk headed straight toward Finnegan’s Wake, where he usually orders his dinner from the dumpster. There, the previous evening, he had seen a collection of old bar stools. Selecting the most warped of the set, he knocked the pile of bar stools over, rooted his choice stool away from its buried spot in the pile; and proceeded to shove it around, by its seat, with the crown of his head.
He even slept with his head and the seat connected in hopes of a midnight, miracle graft. Night after night, no such attachment occurred; and Mrs. Elk was tired of the nonsense.
A battle of the sexes ensued as Mrs. Elk approached her husband and attempted to wrestle his new treasure from him, with her own head. Her deft moves slighted for a moment; and thus the subject photo.
Do you want to know how I think the stool got around the elk’s neck? Do you want to know?
Here is what I think. She went to the bar and sat at the bar and had too many drinks. Then she got up to go chew on some tree bark because the drinking made her hungry and she tripped over her own hooves, because she has four to keep track of, and she fell on the floor. And when she got up the stool got stuck on her neck.
She was so drunk that when she got up she started fighting. Then there was a bar fight. She got kicked out of the bar. The next day she had a date and she used the stool as her jewelry. That is how I think the stool got around her neck.
“Let’s go,” yelled momma elk.
All the elk listened and followed their mom to the unknown, the promised land. She spoke of a place where berries bud on trees, grass grows high as Jack’s beanstalk, and every elk had a vote.
Rodeo, the youngest, was thrilled to leave the valley where elk were dirt poor. As she said her good-byes to her homeland, she began to reminisce about the good old days. Looking up, she realized the others were long gone without her.
How would she survive all by herself? Panicking, she scanned her staggering surroundings and her eyes settled on a deserted stool. “All I need is this stool here to keep me happy,” she said and she slid the stool over her dainty head.
The stool and Rodeo become fast friends, although Rodeo did most of the talking. She recited all her childhood memories, tons of tall tales, and performed her best comedy act, but was careful not to make the stool the butt of the jokes. Even then, she realized she was lonely.
Just then she felt someone’s eyes upon her. Her animal instinct was to drop chocolate chips from her south side while facing north. Her legs were tired and her heart was broken; however, she realized the elderly elk watching her was in far more discomfort than she.
Slowly she approached the elk and ducked her head, offering the stool. Rodeo now knew even without the stool she would have a leg to stand on.
” Audrey Valiton
Two elk dressed in their referee’s black-and-whites walked into Buffalo’s at ski patrol headquaters on Vail Mountain. Unbeknownst to them, a white haired man with unruly eyebrows was sitting on a stool watching the Cal/UCLA men’s college basketball game.
A discussion ensued regarding a flagrant foul call, the result of which caused a 7-point change in the score. The two elk were siding with the referee’s who made the call. The white haired man exclaimed
“You referees are all alike, you always stick together no matter how bad the call is … you aren’t even fit to wear those stripes!” shouted the white haired man.
“Okay, you old grump” replied one of the elk, as he took off his striped jersey, “If you’re so smart why don’t you wear this jersey?”
Well that was the last straw ,thought the white haired man. He stood up and said to the elk, “I’m Bob Knight and if you think i would wear that you must be crazy.”
The elk, sensing that things were starting to get out of hand, started to leave the restaurant but as they turned to look back across the room a stool came flying at their heads.
“Why did you do that” exclaimed the elk, now wearing a bar stool, in disbelief.
“I did it because this is Buffalo’s and there aren’t any chairs here.”
There aren’t too many elk that work in bars. My name is George and I was the exception.
A few months back I worked a mascot gig at the Dusty Boot Saloon. I would do anything from pose in pictures with kids to mess with tourists by acting like a stuffed decoration and then wink at them.
On slow nights I would usually just swap war stories with the wino, JoJo. One night we set up all of the bar stools like bowling pins. The barkeep, Rico, bet me I couldn’t knock down all 10 bar stools in one charge. I agreed, under the condition that once I made every last stool tumble, Bernard would have to fill my bucket with a gallon of his finest lager.
“You’re on, But if you don’t knock em all down, you have to drag JoJo out of here tonight, ALONE,” he wagered.
Oh, did I mention JoJo ways over 300 pounds? It usually takes two people to help him out at closing.
I sighed, but agreed.
I galloped as fast as I could. I cut right through the barstools like butter. When I stood up all of the pins (bar stools) were knocked over.
“I only count nine,” I told Rico. He replied, “Check around your neck slick.”
I somehow got the last one wrapped around my neck. It never touched the ground. All I could do was look over at a passed out JoJo and pray we had a wheel chair in the back.
Bang, crash, wham!!!The boys rushed down the mountain to where they had catapulted their wooden stool. When they got to the bottom of the hill, they saw an elk leap off with the stool around it’s neck.
The boys ran home to their mother and told her the story. The next day the boys chased the elk all over the forest. They told the police and it was such a big comotion.
Soooo, the moral is … don’t throw a stool, or anything else, off a cliff
An elk, a moose and a caribou walk into a bar. The elk turns to themMoose and says, “So, Bullwinkle, what do you do for a living”?
The moose cringes and responds, “I work at the Smiling Moose making sure that people get nutritious food for breakfast, lunch and dinner.”
“Ooooh, big deal”, responds the ek.
The elk turns to the caribou and asks, “So, cousin of Santa’s reindeer, what do you do for a living?”
The caribou grimaces and responds, “I work at Caribou Coffee making sure that everyone gets a hearty cup of coffee to get them going in the morning.”
To which the elk responds, “Ooooh, big deal.”
At this point the moose and caribou are getting quite angry and turn to the elk and say, “So Mr. big shot, what do you do for a living”? To which the Elk responds, “I work for the Colorado Department of Fish and Game and actually collect scat, you know … stool samples from wild animals in the great outdoors for scientific studies.”
The moose and xaribou looked at each other, smiled and grabbed the nearest bar stool and simultaneously exclaimed, “Here, sample this!”
Today I went to “Thrifty Hairstyles” to get made up by one of the “professionals.” The last thing I remember is getting treated to a special concoction called “Sleepy Time.”
I should’ve known, with a name like that, I was going to wake up somewhere strange ” like on top of my kitchen counter with half of my butt sopping wet from dunking into the sink repeatedly (like bobbing for apples with my rear end).
On top of that, they forced a stool around my neck. It has an automatic built-in woopy cushion, which is SUPER embarrassing to go into public with, “Hi, how ppppppppbbbbbbbb you?”
I wonder what the signs around the salon were all about, “WATCH OUT IT’S APRIL 1!” Am I really that grouchy on my birthday, April 3?
This year I’m not going to celebrate my birthday if I can’t get this off. Luckily I have a plan! I’ll roll around in my buddy, King Kong’s, hair. Hopefully the oil and grease will loosen the stools grip…
” Eloise Fauland
(adapted from the Fresh Prince of Bel Air Theme Song)
Now, this is a story all about how
My life got flipped-turned upside down
And I’d like to take a minute
Just sit right there
I’ll tell you how I became the Fresh Elk of Eagle
In West Philadelphia born and raised
On the meadow where I spent most of my days
Chillin’ out maxin’ relaxin’ all cool
Chasing some cattle outside the school
When a couple of bulls
Who were up to no good
Startin making trouble in my neighborhood
I got in one little fight and my mom got ill
She said ‘You’re movin with the western elks of Eagle’
I begged and pleaded with her day after day
But she packed my suit case and sent me on my way
Gave me a kiss and gave me my ticket.
I put on my bar stool and said, ‘might as well kick it’.
Well, the plane landed in Gypsum and when I came out
There was an elk that was jealous of my neck ornament
I didn’t want trouble so I strutted on by
My flashy bling-bling looking so fly
I whistled for a cab and when it came near
The license plate said fresh and there were antlers on the mirror
If anything I can say this cab is unthinkable
But I thought ‘Now forget it’ – ‘Yo homes to Eagle’
I pulled up on Broadway about 7 or 8
And I yelled to the cabbie ‘Yo homes smell ya later’
I looked at my kingdom
I was finally there
To sit on my throne as the Elk of Eagle
” Todd Altschuler