Doug and Jeff

by Dingbat

This story is a work of fiction, all characters and plot lines are fictional. Any resemblance to persons living or dead is purely coincidental. DOUG AND JEFF remains the property of the author. The story or characters may not be reproduced or republished elsewhere without the expressed written consent of the author.

Doug sat on the floor at the corner of Mike Hayworth's bed. His hands had been tied behind his back, and his ankles bound together, both with rope. Two red bandanas had been rolled together, and tied over his mouth.

Normally, Doug would easily escape from just a wrists and ankles tie without a lot of difficulty, but his captor, Mike Hayworth, had tied his hands together behind the bedpost, making it impossible for the slender teenager to slide his hands under his butt, then bring them in front of him, and chew the knots loose. He was frustrated at his inability to free himself, and regretted challenging Mike to tie him up, and promising that if he didn't get loose, he'd spend the next five nights at Mike's house and allow Mike and his friends from his scout troop to take turns tying him up over those next five days.

Mike Hayworth was happy with his conquest of Doug, and Doug was mentally kicking himself for agreeing to let Mike tie him “any way you want, except you can't tie my hands to my belt or belt loops.” Now, he had let his mouth overload his ass, and was paying the price for it. He was angry, mostly at himself, for his mental lapse, and could do nothing but sit and seethe as Mike called over to the house of his best friend, Scott, Scott's older brother, Allen, and their “house guest for a year,” their cousin, Charlie.

“I got Doug tied up at my place!” Mike proclaimed over the phone. “And I got him tied up so that he can't get loose.”

On the other end of the phone, was Scott, who was dismissive of Mike's claim, up to when he ungagged Doug, and allowed the two to speak. Doug confirmed he was Mike's captive, and that he couldn't get loose. “This I gotta see!” Scott said. “I'll be right over!”

“You come, you're gonna join your friend!” Mike told him.

“Then I'll bring Charlie and Allen, Ronnie, Mark, and Kevin, and Big Chris and Red Jeff.” Scott said.

“Wear your uniforms!” Mike Hayworth teased. “We love tying up scouts from other troops in their uniforms.”

Scott hung up, and relayed the message to Allen and Charlie. Both of them made derisive comments, saying that Doug was a weasel, deserved what he got, and was either trying to double-cross them by luring them into a joining him as Mike's captives, or was being forced to lure them in to a trap. In either case, if they went over to Mike Hayworth's house, they would be seen a half a block away, and the chances were pretty good that Mike and his friends had set up an ambush that would overcome the eight to five numbers disadvantage.

“We gotta go!” Scott said. “They got my best friend captive!” 

“You go!” Charlie said. I got math homework to do.”

“Math homework in July?” Scott questioned. “You ain't goin' to summer school, are you?”

“No.” Charlie said. “The point, is that I'd rather be doing math homework, than going off with you on some wild goose chase, with a hundred percent probability of getting tied up and gagged by our biggest rivals.

“Yeah! What he said!” Allen echoed.

“Pair of wussies!” Scott mumbled, barely audibly. Allen and Charlie may have heard, but let Scott walk out the door, obviously on his way to get help from Big Chris and Red Jeff. Mark, Ronnie, and Kevin, too, if he could find them and talk them in to it.

“Ya know, we really should go with him.” Allen told Charlie after Scott had left.

“Oh, yeah? Why?” Charlie asked.

“'Cause if we don't, there's a ninety-nine percent chance that he'll be captured, too, and we'll have to go after him.” Allen answered. “I don't much care if Doug's their captive for a month, but Scott IS my little brother, and like it or not, I AM 'sposed to look out for him and take care of him. You, too! You are blood kin to him.”

Charlie thought for a moment, then agreed. Partially. “Yeah, that's true, but sometimes he's such a little weasel, that maybe a day or two as Mike Hayworth's 'guest' would do him good. And the downside, is that if we do get him out, we gotta bring Doug with him.”

“Not necessarily.” Allen said. “I know Mike and Mike, and they know us, so I'm guessing that Scott and Doug will be on opposite sides of Mike Hayworth's room. And, assuming that Mike and Doug are telling the truth, and they got Doug tied up so he can't get out, there's a very good chance that they'll do Scott the same way.”

“Yeah!” said Charlie. “We get Scott loose, then 'hear something,' say we don't have time to get Doug, and beat it out of there with Scott in tow.”

“Man, if Doug was here, he'd promote you to first class weasel.” Allen said. 

Charlie grinned, and said “Ya know, he's gonna know that we stuck it to him. As soon as both of us get to work freeing Scott, he's gonna wonder why one of us isn't helping him.”

“Yeah!” Allen grinned back. “And there won't be a thing he can say or do about it, 'cause he'll be tied and gagged.”

“Now who's the first class weasel?” Charlie laughed.

“Hey, Charlie, Allen!” Scott yelled as he came in the door. “Mark and Kevin said they'd help, and I talked to Red Jeff and Big Chris, and they'll help, too. They'll be here in a couple of minutes.”

“Ronnie's coming, too!” yelled Mark.

“So, are you two gonna help out or wimp out?” Scott asked.

Put in those words, Charlie and Allen didn't have much of a choice. “OK, we're in.” Allen said. “Anybody got any kind of a plan? We can't go marching up there like a brass band.

“I guess the most obvious, is a distraction of some sort.” Scott answered. “Me and Allen could get in to a loud argument, which would attract Mike, Mike, and the others, while a couple stand guard, and a couple more sneak in and get Doug.”

“Not bad, but I got something better.” Charlie said. “We still got some strings of firecrackers left over from the Fourth of July, so instead of an argument, we just attract them with the noise from the firecrackers.”

“Hey, yeah!” came Ronnie's voice from behind them. “I figure Mike and Mike, and probably Bill, will come out immediately, and if we set off a second string on the edge of the woods, Jimmy and Little Chris will wonder what's going on, and we can split them up, and have ambushes waiting for them.”

“Did anyone ever tell you that you're sneaky and devious?” Charlie asked. And how'd you get in here without us hearing you?”

“The way you guys were wrapped up in making your plan, I could'a waltzed in here banging on a drum, and you wouldn't've heard me.” Ronnie said. “Chris and Jeff, too!”

“Hi, guys!” Chris and Jeff said in unison.

Charlie and Allen acknowledged Jeff's and Chris's presence, then got back to the plan. “We gotta get in close.” Allen said. “And the closest we can get, on the back side of Mike's house, is the woods, and that's a good thirty yards. And it's thirty more yards on the front side.”

“First distraction from the front!” Charlie said. “If we try from the woods, they'll almost surely smell something fishy.” 

“Agreed!” Allen said. “I'll lead one team; Charlie'll lead the other. Ronnie, Chris, and Kevin will go with Charlie; I'll take Scott, Mark, and Jeff.”

“Take these, too.” Charlie said, tossing a walkie-talkie to Allen, and pocketing the other one.

“Ahhh, wouldn't it be a good idea to check them out and make sure the batteries are good?” Scott asked.

“You got a point, l'il bro.” Allen said, then directed Charlie down the hall. A quick communications check revealed that the walkie-talkies were in working order. “OK, let us know when you guys are in place, and we'll set off a string of firecrackers out front. Then, when we see someone come out of Mike's place, we'll let you know, and you set off the other string!”

The plan was set; the teams dispatched themselves to their appointed locations, and waited for the signal that both were in place. “Ready!” Charlie spoke into the walkie-talkie, and received a like reply from the other team. 

Allen took a cigarette lighter and lit the fuse to a string of 50 firecrackers, then threw them as far as he could. About thirty feet from Mike Hayworth's front door, they started going off, and they had their intended reaction. Mike and his friends ran to the window, but saw nothing other than a cloud of pungent smoke.

“Firecrackers!” he snarled. “I bet Allen and Charlie tossed them.”

“Why?” inquired Mike Houghton.

“It just seems like something they'd do.” Mike Hayworth shot back. 

“Bah! When it comes to Charlie and Allen and the kids in their troop, you're a raving paranoid!” laughed Bill.

“I'm no paranoid. Them guys really are out to get us!” replied Mike Hayworth.

“I wonder if us being out to get them, has anything to do with it.” mused Jimmy Houghton.

Mike Hayworth and Mike Houghton fell right into the trap, and decided that the firecrackers needed to be investigated, and dispatched Jimmy Houghton and Little Chris Berville to check them out. “What if it's Charlie and Ronnie?” wailed Little Chris. “They're bigger'rn us, and 'll catch us sure!”

“OK, wimps, I'll go with you!” growled Mike Houghton. “Bill, you and Mike stay here, and make sure our prisoner don't try nuthin funny.”

Doug could hardly try anything funny. His hands were still tied behind him, and behind the leg of the bed, and there was no way he was going to get loose without help. All he could do, was watch, and softly “mmmppfff” into his gag, as he watched Mike, Jimmy, and Little Chris leave to check out the firecrackers.

In the front yard, there was nothing, other than the lingering odor of the gunpowder from the firecrackers, and thousands of tiny pieces of paper that once were firecrackers. From their vantage point, Allen looked out, and muttered “Too damn far away. We gotta get 'em closer.”

Without asking or giving anyone time to think, Mark stepped into the open, and shouted “Hey, over here, you turkeys! You guys couldn't catch a cold!” He then disappeared between two houses thirty yards away, with Little Chris and Jimmy after him at a dead run. 

Bill stood there, his mouth agape, and, in vain, hollered after Chris and Jimmy, “Hey, wait, guys! It might be a trap!” But the caution went unheeded. 

As soon as he saw Jimmy and Little Chris start to sprint after Mark, Allen keyed his walkie-talkie, and said just two words: “Do it!” Fifteen seconds later, the noise of another string of firecrackers was heard, and before it stopped, Mark, Scott, and Jeff had outnumbered and overpowered Chris and Jimmy, and had bound their hands tightly behind their backs.

“Damn those two little idiots!” Bill groused, as he started walking in the direction taken by the two younger boys. But his apprehension turned to elation when he heard his brother yell “Hey, Bill, it was Mark, and he was alone. Me and Jimmy got him!” Bill picked up the pace, and walked right into the trap Allen had set..

“You stinking, rotten, no good, dirty, low down weasel!” sputtered Bill, as Red Jeff tied his hands behind him with a strip of rawhide boot lace. 

Allen grinned, and said “Isn't that why we chose each other for best friends?”

“And what's with the rawhide?” Bill asked.

“Easier to carry, and we can carry more.” Scott laughed, as he watched Mark tie a double rolled blue bandana over Bill's mouth.

On the other side, the second string of firecrackers did not have the intended result. Mike Hayworth and Mike Houghton were content to let Bill, Chris, and Jimmy investigate the disturbance, while they teased Doug over his predicament, and “invited” him to stay the night at Mike's house. 

Doug was eager to accept, but didn't want to show it, so he shook his head. He knew Mike Hayworth, and perhaps, Mike would become annoyed, untie him from the bed, and hog tie him, just to encourage him to accept the terms. If that happened, Doug just might find escape a little easier.

When it was apparent that the plan had failed to meet all expectations, Charlie called Allen on the walkie-talkie, and said “Now what?”

“I got an idea!” Scott chimed in. “We send one of our captives in to tell Mike and Mike that we'll trade the other two for Doug.”

“That's not half bad.” Allen laughed. “But which one?”

“Send Little Chris.” said Red Jeff. “He's about as useful as pockets in underwear.”

Chris heard Jeff's insult, and silently vowed that he would have payback for Jeff's snide crack. He was pulled to his feet, and his hands untied, then sat back down on the ground to untie his own feet and pull away his gag. 

“Go tell Mike and Mike that we'll trade Jimmy and Bill for Doug!” Allen ordered. Little Chris nodded assent, and took off for Mile Hayworth's house with the offer.

Mike Hayworth's reaction to the offer was loud and profane. “Damn it, I knew we should'a gone, and let Little Chris and Jimmy watch this turkey.” he roared, and gestured at Doug. 

Little Chris was not intimidated. “Yeah, and if it had been, you'd be the one up here talking to me about the same damn thing!” he growled.

“He's right, Mike.” said Mike Houghton. “And you know it, too.”

Mike Hayworth thought for a moment, then sighed. “Yeah, I guess so. And I guess we're gonna have to accept their terms, and make the trade. But you three are gonna owe Mike and me big time, first for getting you away from Allen and his bunch, and second, for being dumb enough to fall into their trap.”

“Oh, yeah!” snarled Little Chris. “It's not like you never did nuthin' dumb!”

“We can argue about it later!” Mike said. Right now, get Doug untied from the bed leg, and on his feet. But his hands stay tied behind him!”

Little Chris freed Doug from the bed, and untied his feet. The captive stood up and made a soft “Mmmppff” through his gag, but Mike, Mike, and Little Chris ignored him. They did, however, make it more difficult for Doug to run, by wrapping about fifteen feet of rope around his legs, above his knees, then cinching it. Another fifteen feet went around Doug's arms, and was cinched between each arm and his torso. A third rope, about twelve feet long, was tied to Doug's hands. If he tried anything, a quick tug would throw him off balance, and he'd drop like a rock. 

Doug was taken downstairs, and out the front door. Some thirty yards away, between a pair of houses, Bill and Jimmy waited, with their hands tied behind them, their mouths gagged. Allen, Scott, Charlie, Ronnie, Mark, Kevin, Big Chris, and Red Jeff waited with them, for the exchange to be made.

With simultaneous nods from Allen and Mike, Bill and Jimmy started out from his end, and Doug, from the other. It took less than thirty seconds to make the swap, and at both ends, the former captives were getting earfuls from their friends about how they were dumber than a crate of anvils for getting themselves caught. “We should'a left your skinny butt with Mike and them!” Allen snarled at Doug.

“Nah, he'd probably like that!” Charlie grinned. “He's the only kid I've ever known, that actually asks to be tied up.”

That brought laughter from the others, and caused Doug's face to flush. “I gotta quit being so obvious.” he thought.

On the way back, Big Chris and Red Jeff had the idea that Doug should be “court-martial ed,” and the idea was well received by the others. “We'll do it in our bedroom!” said Charlie, “But if we're gonna court-martial him, we all ought to be wearing our uniforms.”

Allen agreed, and the others nodded in agreement. “Meet back at our place in half an hour!” he told the others, and they all split off to go to their homes, and change into their scout uniforms. 

“You, too, Doug, and if you wimp or weasel out, and if you ain't back here in 20 minutes, me and the others are gonna cut out your heart, and serve it to the Lockwood twins and the other girls in their girl scout troop, on a hamburger bun!”

Doug knew that the threat was empty talk, and that Allen was sometimes prone to exaggeration, but he also knew that if he did pull a fast one, Allen and the others would undoubtedly have a “penalty” for him that would, if nothing else, be a bit embarrassing.

The bedroom shared by Charlie, Allen, and Scott was something on an “unofficial headquarters” for the kids of their scout troop. It was the place where most of their hare-brained schemes and dubious plots were hatched, and it was to this sanctuary the nine boys retreated, to mete out their own brand of justice on Doug, and then decide on just how they'd get back at Mike Hayworth and the other kids in his troop.

Right on schedule, Ronnie, Mark, Little Kevin, Red Jeff, Big Chris, and Doug showed up, all wearing their scout uniforms. They all found chairs and beds to sit on, and decided that Big Chris would be the “judge,” that, ironically, Doug's best friend, Scott, would be the “prosecutor,” and that Red Jeff would be the “defense attorney.”

“Oh, great!” thought Doug. “I might as well just plead 'guilty,' and throw myself on the 'mercy of the court.' But mercy ain't in any of their playbooks.”

The boys took their positions, and “Judge Chris” ordered that Doug's hands be tied behind him. Little Kevin, appointed as the “bailiff,” took a piece of rope about seven feet long, and started to tie Doug's hands.

“Objection!” roared Red Jeff. “He ain't been convicted of anything yet!”

“He will be, so we might as well be ready when he is!” was Chris's order. “And gag him real good, too. I don't want him disrupting my courtroom!”

Doug's neckerchief was removed from around his neck, rolled with a second neckerchief from Scott's rope bag, knotted in the middle, and tied tightly over Doug's mouth. The gag pretty much silenced the captive, even though, with a little effort, Doug could have pushed it away with his tongue. However, doing so would subject Doug to even more penalties, and if he was going to get them, he was going to choose his own time and place.

After tying Doug's hands behind him and gagging him, Little Kevin tied another rope around Doug's arms, and a third one around his ankles. He was forced to sit in Scott's desk chair, then was tied around the waist, arms, and legs, to the chair.

Kevin gave a nod to the others, indicating that he was done, and Big Chris, grinning like an evil demon, about to put some nefarious plot into action, intoned “This court-martial will come to order!”

“The defendant will rise to hear the charges read!” Chris continued. Doug tried to get up, and did manage to rise, but with the chair still attached to him (or him to the chair). He was sort of bent over at the waist, and the others all held their hands over their noses and mouths, to suppress their snickers at how silly Doug looked. He looked around, and was well aware of what was going on. If any of the others had been in his place, he would have thought it was funny, too. “Well, it could be worse.” he thought. “They could have tied me up wearing my pajamas, or, worse than that, Scott's or Allen's.

Doug's thoughts were interrupted by Big Chris, who deepened his voice as much as he could, and went on “Douglas Atwood, you are accused of . . . . .” He paused. “What's he accused of?” he asked the others.

He got seven blank stares until Mark hesitatingly said “He's a bonehead!”

“Nah, that's not it!” Charlie said. “If being a bonehead was a crime, we've all done things that would put us in the dock right next to him.”

“Yeah, like the time you . . . . .” started Ronnie.

“That's OK!” interrupted Charlie. “We can't charge him with being a bonehead..”

Chris went on, “Douglas Atwood, you are accused of something which we'll figure out later. How do you plead?”

Doug responded with a couple of muffled “Mmmppfff's,” while his “defense attorney,” Red Jeff, said “Not guilty.”

Little Kevin laughed. “He's guilty as hell. He's got 'guilt' written all over his face.”

“The bailiff will be silent!” Chris said. “Unless he wants to join the prisoner in the dock!”

“He probably wouldn't mind if he could wear his buckskin pants, chambray shirt, and pretend he was Israel Boone.” whispered Charlie to Ronnie.

“I don't think so.” Ronnie answered. “He'd want to be Little Beaver or one of the twins, 'cause he's part Indian. He'd want Mark to be Israel.” Charlie grinned, and nodded in agreement.

The “prosecutor,” Scott, not knowing what to charge Doug with, and therefore, no real case, just hemmed and hawed, relating instances of where Doug had been a weasel to a greater or lesser degree, but it didn't really matter. The verdict was a foregone conclusion.

“Guilty!” intoned Big Chris. “The prisoner will . . . . . oh, never mind. What should be his sentence?”

“We could sentence him to be tied up four times by each of us, but he'd probably like that!” Scott said. “He likes to show off how good he can escape.”

“He don't care if he's wearing jeans, corduroys, his uniform, or even pajamas.” Ronnie chimed in. “Just as long as there's a challenge for him.”

“How about we sentence him to get tied up, but without much of a challenge?” asked Allen.

“What'cha got in mind?” asked Charlie. 

Them five cub scouts are still competing to replace Mark as the troop mascot, so why not give them each a day with Doug?” Allen answered. “None of them can tie worth a damn, and we could send Kevin along to teach them.”

“Can Mark help, too?” Little Kevin asked.

“Sure!” said Charlie. “It'll keep you two termites out of our hair for five days.”

Kevin filed that one away for future reference, but held his tongue. But he did come up with the idea that someone should go along with him. “Red Jeff!” suggested Big Chris. 

“Why me? Wha'did I do?” the red haired boy asked. 

“You were a lousy defense attorney!” Big Chris said. “If you were any good, you'd'a got your client off!”

“I thought you guys wanted a conviction!” Jeff protested. “Besides, it was a stacked deck, and you are all a bunch of weasels!”

“Gee, Jeff, it took you all this time to figure that out?” Mark asked. “I knew they were all weasels when I was still the troop mascot!”

“Well, you live with Ronnie.” Jeff shot back. “As big a weasel as he is, you should know.”

“Hey, I ain't nowhere near the weasel Doug is!” Ronnie wailed. 

“You're still a weasel.” Mark laughed.

“How'd you like to spend tonight tied and gagged in the closet?” Ronnie sneered.

“Promises, promises.” laughed Mark.

“So, are we gonna give Doug to the mascot applicants, or what? asked Big Chris.

“Yeah, let's do that.” laughed Charlie. “We'll bust him to cub scout, and let them initiate him, too.”

“You did that a couple of months ago.” said Mark “Back when I was still a cub scout and the troop mascot. It was fun practicing our knots on him, even if he did get loose all the time.”

A few moments later, Doug learned his fate, and from the way he “mmmppfff'd” and struggled, the others all thought that Doug was as mad as the proverbial wet hen, and would make them all pay very dearly, the first chance he got. Still, he had to wonder about the wording. Big Chris didn't say they WOULD be the cub scouts' “practice dummies,” but rather, that they would ensure the cubs had a couple of “practice dummies.”

“Wonder what he'd'a done or sounded like, if we decided to bust him to cub scout, then left him on Mike Hayworth's doorstep?” laughed Red Jeff.

“Probably the same as I did when I found out I was gonna hafta get tied and gagged a bunch of cub scouts.” growled Doug, who had been untied and ungagged, so he could change into one of Scott's old cub scout uniform. “And I hope you had a good laugh!” Doug continued. “'Cause I sorta remember that you're goin' with me, 'cause you didn't get me off.”

“Oh, crap!” Jeff muttered, and eased himself toward the door. “Sorry, guys, I gotta get home. My mom needs me for something!”

“Yeah, right!” laughed Big Chris. “Your parents are outta town, and you've been stayin' with me for the last two nights. You're tryin' to weasel out!”

Red Jeff grumbled, and told Big Chris that he was going to have his ass on a silver plate. All Chris did, was laugh.

By this time, Doug had changed, and was re-tied. His scout neckerchief that once gagged him had been replaced by two smaller cub scout neckerchiefs rolled together, and he just watched while Big Chris seemed to take great delight in putting Red Jeff in the same predicament. As he watched, he made a mental note. “Ten weasel points to Big Chris for screwing over Red Jeff.” he thought. “And minus five for doing it out in the open. A good weasel don't get caught. He sticks it to his friends and enemies alike, and in such a way that no one ever suspects him.”

“Then again, doing it out in the open like that, without care or concern about getting noticed or caught at it, was either amazingly stupid, or took a whole lot of gall.” Doug continued to think. “It ain't very weasel-like, but I'll give him the benefit of the doubt. Ten more for having a pair like a brass monkey.”

Big Chris had finished tying up Red Jeff, and Charlie was grinning like Batman's nemesis, the Joker, as he rolled two cub scout neckerchiefs together for Jeff's gag. “I don't 'spose anyone wants to trade with me?” he asked, just before Charlie gagged him. “Stupid question.” he thought, after the gag had been applied.

“OK, there they are!” Charlie laughed, pointing to the bound and gagged figures of Red Jeff and Doug.

“Thanks!” Mark said. “We'll take 'em over to our house. Ronnie's gonna hang out with Charlie and you guys, and Mom and Dad'll be gone all day, so we got the place to ourselves.”

“Tied up prisoners gotta do what they're told, right?” Kevin asked.

“No duh!” laughed Scott. “How long you been livin' here, and how long you been in the troop?”

“OK!” said Kevin. “Me and Mark are gonna untie Jeff and Doug, if they promise to walk over to our place, and agree to be re-tied when we get there. How 'bout it? You two agree?”

Doug and Jeff nodded, and were untied. They were also spared the embarrassment of having to walk the two and a half blocks, wearing cub scout uniforms, and were allowed to change back into street clothes.

Jeff seemed a little anxious, and told Mark and Kevin “Let's get this over with!” and headed out. Doug was right behind him.

“Don't think I've ever seen Jeff that anxious to get tied up, especially by a gaggle of ten year olds.” Allen mused. “Musta caught somethin' from Doug. The others laughed.

On the sidewalk, Jeff was appreciative. “Thanks for not makin' us walk over to your house wearing those cub uniforms, and with our hands tied behind us, Mark. You, too, Kevin. Me and Doug owe you.”

“You bet your big blue butt you do!” Kevin replied. 

“Yeah, and we're gonna collect, too!” laughed Mark

“Blue butt . . . . . he would have to bring that up!” muttered Jeff.

“What's that all about?” Doug asked.

“A few weeks before you moved in, my parents got me a new pair of jeans, and I wore 'em without them being washed first. Now I know why you wash jeans before wearing them. There was still blue dye in them, and when I took 'em off in the locker room to dress out for sixth period phys ed, my legs were blue from the knees up, and so was my underwear. They called me 'Blue Butt' and 'Smurf' for a couple of weeks after that.”

Doug snickered, and said that it was a bit more information than he needed, then tried to erase that image from his mind's eye.

The four of them arrived at Mark's house, and went upstairs to the bedroom Mark and Ronnie shared. There, Mark and Kevin retrieved the cub scout uniforms from a bag, and told Doug and Jeff to change back. The boys did, and Kevin tied up Doug, while Mark went to work on Red Jeff.

Mark was about to re-gag Doug with the cub scout neckerchief, when the doorbell rang. He tossed the gag to Kevin and told him to finish up on Doug, as soon as he was done with Jeff. The young boy bounded down the stairs, opened the door, and found the twins, Tommy and Bobby. “Where's Terry, Steve, and Greg?” Mark asked, as he let them in, and took them up to the bedroom.

“They're a little tied up at the moment.” laughed Tommy.

“You didn't!” Mark said

“They tried!” came Terry's voice. “But we got out almost before they left.”

“They cheated!” Bobby charged.

“You just can't tie good!” countered Greg.

“Yeah! You guys tie like girls!” Steve added.

Kevin had come down to check on what was taking Mark so long, and, left alone, Doug was quick to escape, and free his friend. “I thought Kevin was better than that.” Red Jeff commented, as Doug freed his hands.

“Sometimes he gets sloppy.” Doug grinned. “Besides, his Indian cousins may have taught him everything HE knows, but I'm willing to bet that they didn't teach him everything THEY know.”

Jeff had just untied the gag from around his head when Mark and Kevin returned with Terry, Steve, Greg, Tommy, and Bobby in tow. “Hey, how'd you two get out so quick?” Kevin asked.

“It's magic!” Jeff laughed.

“Yeah!” echoed Doug. “And since we did get outta your knots, we get payback!”

“Not today!” Kevin countered. “You forget, you guys are 'sposed to let the cubs practice their knots on you.”

Doug was about to concede, but Chris's words came back to him. “Not so!” Doug said. “We were 'sposed to insure they had someone, or maybe two someones, to practice on. That's what Chris said, and guess who we're gonna give 'em!”

Jeff turned to the five cubs, and asked “Who do you wanna practice on? Me and Doug, or Mark and Kevin?” Since Mark and Kevin had given the five mascot candidates most of the crap they'd caught for the last couple of weeks, it was unanimous. “We want Mark and Kevin!” they shouted in unison.

Doug and Jeff quickly bound and gagged Kevin and Mark, then looked at the five cub scouts. “They're all yours!” Doug said.

Terry, Steve, Greg, Tommy, and Bobby all cheered, and Doug and Jeff watched, as the five of them debated on how they were going to tie their captives. “They look good in them buckskins that Kevin got for him and Mark!” Doug laughed. 

“Yeah, and I bet they look silly, tied up in their pajamas, too!” Jeff added, then tapped Doug's shoulder, and pointed down the hall. Doug took the hint, and the two of them slipped down the hallway, down the stairs, and out the door.

“Gotta give you some weasel points for suggesting that the cubs tie up Mark in Kevin in pajamas.” Doug laughed. 

Jeff grinned, and said that it was somewhat fitting, as it was Kevin that first came up with the idea of “pajama Indians,” “No one deserves it more.” he laughed. “Besides, if Chris hadn't tried to impress everybody by trying to say in ten words, what he could'a said in two, what'da'ya think would'a happened to us?”

“Kevin would'a made us wear pajamas, and we'd'a been tied up in them until noon next Thursday.” Doug answered.

“Maybe we ought'a do to him, what he had in mind for Kevin to do to us!” Jeff suggested. 

“Ya'know what'd really be neat?” Doug asked, then answered his own question with “If we could get him to ask us . . .no, beg us . . . to do it to him.”

“Yeah, but I got an idea when that'll happen.” Jeff laughed. “When pigs fly.”

“Oh, I don't know!” Doug said. “It all depends on what his choices are.”

“Yeah? And what could Chris possibly think is worse than spending a day or so, getting tied up in his pajamas, by us.” Jeff asked.

“How about spending a day or so, getting tied up in someone else's pajamas, by them five cub scouts, or maybe by Mike Hayworth and the kids in his troop?” 

“Yeah, like that's gonna happen any time in the next decade.” Jeff sneered.

“Remember that war movie we watched last week? The one with Clint Eastwood, and that guy who played 'Kojak?' Remember what the nutcase tank man told his mechanic?”

“And what was that?” Jeff asked.

“He said 'Have a little faith, baby!' and told him to quit thinkin' all them negative thoughts.” Doug replied. “Besides, you forget that you're dealing with one of the troop's biggest weasels.”

“I'm glad you qualified that.” Jeff replied. “From what I heard, you got a long way to go before you catch up with Wayne Sommers, or Big Kevin Monroe.”

“You might be right.” Doug answered. “If there was ever a weasel hall of fame, those two would make it in on the first ballot.”

Jeff snickered, and joked “They ain't never gonna be a hall of fame for weasels. It'll be a black hole of infamy.”

Doug laughed, and told Jeff he'd been watching too much “Star Trek,” and “Lost in Space.”

“Do you think the Lockwood twins know what kind'a weasels Big Kevin and Wayne are?” Jeff inquired.

“That pair are weasels in their own right.” Doug said. “I heard that Allison and Andrea switched places with each other on a double date with Wayne and Kevin, and they never knew the difference.”

“Hell, I can't tell the difference.” Jeff said. “But if they weren't being chased by Wayne, Big Kevin, and Charlie, I'd be after one of them, too.”

“Not a chance.” Doug laughed. You're just a few months past twelve, and the Lockwood twins are three and a half years older than you.”

“Yeah, but their little sister, Angela, is cute, too, and she's my age, and in most of my classes.”

“I hear Jimmy Houghton has his eyes on her, too.” Doug said.

“Bah!” Jeff retorted. “He'll never catch her. He couldn't catch a cold on a thirty-degree day in January if he walked to and from school, wearing just his gym shorts and a T-shirt.”

Doug thought of saying something else, but let it drop. He also thought Angela Lockwood was cute, too, but he certainly didn't want Jeff to know it. Instead, he switched the subject to Big Chris, knowing that it would spark a reaction from Jeff.

Jeff didn't disappoint. He railed on, called Chris several names that normally wouldn't pass the lips of a scout who was just about to make first class, and threatened to visit all manner of evil upon him. Doug laughed, than said “Hey, Jeff, tell me what you'd do to him if he wasn't your friend, and a scout in your troop!”

Jeff just gave Doug a funny look, but Doug had an idea. “Hey, I bet I could get Chris to stay overnight at my place, and you with him.”

“I like that idea!” Jeff said. “I got a big red neckerchief – one of them square ones – that you left last week, and I bet it'd look real good tied over his mouth.”

“I wondered where it went.” Doug said. “And I remember that it looked good over your mouth, too.”

Jeff laughed, then suggested that it would look even better on Mike Hayworth, or one of the other kids in his scout troop. “That's something we can all agree on!” Doug said.

END

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