Tag: Theodore Tibedaux

Theodore’s Four Doors

Justin Wilson, Cajun cook, storyteller and comedian. 1914-2004

[Note: I don’t know for sure, but I attribute this story to Justin Wilson.]

  Theodore ran a general store back in the swamp lands of Southern Louisiana. On this particular Summer day, he had invested $10 in a shiny new cuspidor. He was hoping it would keep the loafers from spitting their tobacco juice on the wooden floor.

Boudreaux is the first to walk in to Theodore’s store. “Hey, Theodore, what’s new ‘wit you today?”

“Nawthin’,” Theodore replies,”Ever’ day is de same ol’ ting.”

“Now, how come you say ‘at? Tings change. Well, Ah kin see ‘at now. Jus today yaw place has changed – why, yo got four doors now,” says Boudreaux.

“Wha duz yo mean, ‘four doorz’? he asks. “I don’ hav four dooz, I only gots da two dooz, da fron’ do’ and de back do’ .”

“No, yo got four doorz, Theo, and $10 says I kin prove it.” challenges Boudreaux.

Being unable to resist a wager, Theodore takes the bet. “Okay, den, prove it, Mon.”

“Okay,” Boudreaux begins. “Firs, yo ga da fron’ do’, and den, yo ga da back door — daz two dooz.”

“I already ‘node that,” said Theodore.

“Now, tell me, whaz yo name?” Boudreaux asks. “Well, yo knows my name,” replies Theodore. “Yeah, well sa’ yo name out lou’.”

“It’s Theodore,”

Boudreaux repeats his name,”The-o-DORE, now ‘at’s one mo’ do’ and ‘at makes three dooz.” Theodore says, “I’ll give you that, but there ain’t no fourth do’ .”

“Oh yes there is,” Boudreaux said, “I see ‘yo have a new cuspi-DOR, and that makes four doorz. So gi’me my ten dolla’ .”

Theodore pays him, but he’s upset because now he’s out $20 for the new cuspidor. About that time, Thibodaux walks in the door, and Theodore sees an opportunity… “Hey, Thibodaux, how you like the new place?” Theodore calls.

“What you mean new? ‘Tall looks th’ same to me,” replies Thibodaux.

“Oh, no! I got me four dooz now,” says Theodore.

Thibodaux looks around and says,”Where?”

Theodore says, “Well, fo’ ten dolla I’ll show you. I ga da fron’ do’ and I ga da back door — at’s two dooz.”

“I already ‘node that,” said Thibodaux.

“Now, what’s mah name?” Theodore asks. “Well, you knows “yo name,” says Thibodaux. “Yeah, well sa’ mah name, Thibodaux.”

“It’s Theodore,” Thibodaux says. Theodore repeats his name,”The-o-DORE, that’s one mo’ do’ . That makes three dooz.”

Thibodaux says, “I’ll give you that, but there ain’t no fourth do’ .”

“Oh yes there is,” Boudreaux said, “You see, I bought me one of them…

I bought one of them… ”

and Theodore was at a loss for words. “Ah, that damned ol’ spittoon done cost me thirty dolla already today!”


Theodore goes Hunting

Justin Wilson, Cajun cook, storyteller and comedian. 1914-2004

 [Note: I don’t know for sure, but I attribute this story to Justin Wilson.]

Back in the swamp lands of Southern Louisiana, Theodore Tibedaux had some city folk to come visit him. While they were visiting, they wanted to experience some true bayou life, so they asked Theodore if he would take them to try some alligator hunting. Theodore was obliging, so Theodore and the two men loaded up their rifles in his pickup truck and headed out under the Spanish Moss down an unpaved road back into the darkest part of the Bayou.

  Theodore told the fellows, “Naw ah have to make a stop ‘a the Broussard place an’ let ’em know we’ll be ‘ta roamin’ they property.” Theodore stopped the truck near where some cattle were grazing and walked up to the Broussard cottage.

“ ‘Lo, Amos!” Theodore called.

“ ‘Lo, Theo,” Amos replied. “What you about these parts for?”

Theodore told him, “Ah got some city folk visitin’ and they wan’ try they hands at a ‘gator huntin’. So’s I tol’ ’em we’d try out yore way, but ‘figured I’d stop first t’ ast ya. Ya’ll doin’ well, I presume?” asked Theo.

“No da bess o’ days I e’rd seed.” said Amos.

“Whaz goin’ on?” asked Theo.

“Well, my old kine Abigale is ill, and Doc say she’s too ol’ to recover. I hate to see her suffer. She needs be put down, but I ain’t got da heart. It tears me up sumpin’ fierce.”

“Amos, if’n id do ya, I got da rifle in the truck wi’ me. I’ll jus’ take care o’dat fo ya, then me and them boyz’ll be on ar way.”

” ‘Preciate you’d do at for me, Theo. Yo’re a good man.” said Amos.

   As Theodore walked back to the truck, he spotted the old cow, Abigale, and decided to have some fun with the city folk.

“Dang that Amos Broussard!” Theodore hollered. “He makes me madder ‘an a wet hornet.”

“What happened?” the men asked.

“He said he’s tired o’ people tramplin’ up his property, cuttin’ his fences, an’ leavin’ they trash behind, and said he won’t let us hunt his land. Now, we been frien’s near twenee-six yar, I ‘tol him. I hain’t never did you no ways wrong, but he said he didn’ care. Wasn’ no way he’s lettin’ some city folk come cross his lan’ an take a ‘gator – fren of a fren or no.”

“Well, what are we going to do?” the city boys asked.

“I’ll show him friendship!” and Theodore grabbed his hunting rifle, walked over to Abigale, and *BLAM* shot her in the head.

He waited a moment for the city boys reaction.

Then, from behind, he heard two more shots: *BLAM – BLAM*. Theodore turned around to see one of his guests putting his rifle back in the truck. “Come on, Theodore! I just shot two more of his cows… now let’s get out of here.”