Ernest P. Worrell wasn't the brightest bulb in the box, but he was so kind-hearted, so genial, and so eager to do good that it was hard not to love him. In need of money, he landed himself a job at a farmhouse in the countryside. The man who owned the house was Mr. Bagbod, who was elderly and gray but well-built and strong from years of heavy farm work. Mr. Bagbod and his wife were the only people living there. They weren't the friendliest people in the world but that didn't discourage Ernest. The farmhouse was pretty rundown and there was a lot of work to be done. Ernest had to repair the fence, mend the roof, fix the plumbing, build a new chicken coop, and paint the entire exterior of the house. Two of his friends, Chuck and Bobby, were working on the farm also. They spent most of their time in the barn, doing all kinds of animal-related jobs.
Ernest got started on the task of painting the house. He positioned the ladder carefully against the side of the house and set up his paint, brushes, and other supplies. He began to paint the house a shade of grassy green, the color Mr. Bagbod had requested. The painting job was slow and mundane but simple enough. By noon, Ernest's stomach was starting to rumble. He had eaten nothing all day. Mrs. Bagbod had not offered to give him breakfast despite that he arrived at the break of dawn. He decided to ignore his hunger and finish the paint job. The Bagbod's pet sheepdog came over and started pestering him by swiping his supplies and burying them. Ernest had to keep chasing after him to get them back. It took an hour for Ernest to get back all the stuff the dog had swiped. He heaved a sigh, and went back to painting the house.
Then he smelled something delicious and couldn't help but investigate. He found an apple pie cooling at an open window. It was fresh out of the oven and it looked so yummy that Ernest's mouth was watering like crazy. He hoped Mrs. Bagbod would let him have a slice.
"Yummers! I love pie," he said, shooing a few flies away from the pastry.
The sheepdog ran past him, on his way to mess with the paint again. Ernest took once last look at the pie before returning to his work. He climbed the ladder with a dripping brush in hand and applied green paint to a section of the house.
A few minutes later, Mrs. Bagbod opened the door. She was holding a plate with a big slice of apple pie on it. She smiled and held out the plate. "Here you go. This is for you," she said.
Ernest hurried over, excitedly. He reached for the plate...only for the woman to put it on the ground. The dog ran over and began to gobble up the pie. She patted the dog's head as he ate. "Enjoy," she said, and then went back inside the house and closed the door.
Ernest's heart sank. The pie was for the friggin' dog! Not him.
He frowned, rubbing his empty stomach as he walked away. Oh well, I wasn't very hungry anyway, he told himself, sadly.
As Ernest resumed painting, he balanced the paint can on the top of the ladder so he could reach it easily. Soon the dog finished the tasty pie and trotted right back over to annoy him. Ernest glanced downward to see the dog getting very close to the ladder...occasionally bumping into it. This made Ernest nervous. "Shoo, shoo there, boy."
The dog began circling the ladder as if it were a predator. Then he took a few steps backward and rammed into the ladder! Ernest gasped as the ladder shook and wobbled. A bit of paint spilled from the can, splattering the house in some unwanted places. Ernest kept his balance and looked down at dog as the pesky critter slammed into the ladder again, almost knocking Ernest off.
"Hey, quit it," he pleaded, motioning with his hand for the dog to leave.
A third slam against the ladder followed, this time knocking the ladder right to the ground. Ernest let out a yell as he landed face-down in the garden. He lay there groaning for a moment, before lifting his head to spit out a mouthful of manure. "Ewww..."
When he looked up, he gasped in horror. The green paint had splattered all over the window! Ernest grabbed a rag and tried to scrub off the paint but only succeeded in smearing it around even more. So he scrubbed harder, until the whole window was coated in green.
"Why did you do that?"
Ernest turned around and saw Mr. Bagbod standing there with his arms crossed.
"It...it wasn't my fault," Ernest started to explain. "The dog..." He then noticed that the dog had vanished. This didn't look good.
Mr. Bagbod glared at him.
"So, uh, hehe...does this mean I'm fired?"
"No," replied Bagbod. "I have a better idea." With that, the old man took off his belt.
Ernest was confused at first, but it then dawned on him when the old man told him to bend over.
"W-what?"
"Bend over!" Bagbod shouted.
Ernest gulped, and did as he was told.
Then Bagbod yanked down Ernest's pants and did the same with his underwear.
This wasn't the first time Ernest had received a beating from a cruel man, but it was the first time he got a belt seared into his naked rear. By the time Bagbod was finished, Ernest's butt cheeks were as red as tomatoes and tears were flowing down his cheeks.
"Now don't mess up anything else or you'll get it twice as hard next time!" Bagbod growled, as he put his belt back on.
"Yes, sir," Ernest said, wiping the tears off his cheeks.
"Get back to work now!"
Ernest rubbed his bruised behind as he staggered away. "Ow...owie...that hurts."
Meanwhile...
Chuck and Bobby had seen everything from the barn window. They watched as Ernest cleaned up the mess and continued his work.
"Poor guy. He looks so sad," Chuck said, with pity.
The lean and stoic Bobby said nothing but felt just as sorry for their friend.
"I wish we could cheer him up," Chuck said.
Bobby nodded in agreement, scratching his head in thought.
Chuck suddenly grinned. "Hey, I got an idea!"
The chubby man whispered his idea to Bobby, who began grinning also.
Meanwhile...
Ernest was finally done painting. He breathed a sigh of relief as he wiped sweat from his brow. He was thirsty but too afraid to ask the Bagbods for a drink.
Chuck and Bobby walked towards him. "Hey, Ernest," Chuck greeted him, smiling.
Ernest tried to smile back but he couldn't. He was too sad, sore, and depressed.
"I know you had a rough day, buddy," Chuck said, wrapping an arm around him. "Hey, we have a surprise for you! It will cheer you right up!"
"A surprise for me?" Ernest asked.
"Yep, just for you!" Chuck said cheerily, giving him a noogie.
Bobby stood in place, nodding his head in agreement. There was a mischievous gleam in his eyes.
"Come with us," said Chuck.
Without waiting for Ernest to reply, the two brothers each grabbed him by an arm and led him to the barn.
On the inside, the barn was quiet except for a few animal noises. The cows and horse watched with mild curiosity as the three gents entered.
Ernest noticed that the brothers had set up a place especially for him to sit. The chair had a pillow on the seat, so he wouldn't be in pain from the flogging he received. But what got him confused were the wooden stocks that were waiting for him.
"What are those for?" he asked, pointing to the stocks.
"For you," Chuck said, smiling. "Have a seat, Ernest."
Ernest was a bit nervous but sat down anyway.
"Take off your shoes and socks, please," said Chuck.
Ernest did as he was asked. He then slid his bare feet into the slots and put his wrists in the hand holes.
Chuck and Bobby closed the stocks and locked them shut.
Ernest tried moving his hands and feet but it was impossible. He was stuck good. He looked curiously at his two smirking friends, wondering what in the world they were going to do.
Chuck pulled over a stool and sat down at Ernest's naked feet. He grabbed Ernest's big toes and wiggled them around, while saying a familiar nursery rhyme.
"This little piggy went to market. This little piggy stayed home. This piggy had roast beef. And this little piggy had none!"
Ernest smiled a bit.
"And these cute little piggies went weeweeweewee all the way home!" Chuck cooed, giving Ernest's pinky toes a playful waggle.
"That was fun," Ernest said, feeling a little better. He was quite enjoying this. "Can you do that again?"
Chuck had to giggle. Despite Ernest's age, he was still so childish.
"Please?" Ernest asked. "This is really cheering me up!"
"Later, buddy. We have to do something else now."
Then Chuck tied a blindfold over Ernest's eyes...just to be more sneaky.
Ernest was confused again since he couldn't see what was going to happen next. He was excited too; maybe something else fun would happen. Suddenly, he felt something soft stroking the soles of his feet. He immediately burst into hysterical laughter.
Bobby was slowly dragging a feather across the bottoms of Ernest's feet.
"AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH PLEASE NO! STOOOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOP! THAT TICKLES! THAT TIHIHIHICKLES!"
"Hehe, that's the point," Chuck said with a grin. "Get him, Bobby! Keep tickling him!"
Ernest howled at the top of his lungs. He squirmed around and tried to pull his feet away but the stocks prevented that. He was insanely ticklish on his soles.
Chuck smiled; it warmed his heart to see Ernest happy again.
"HAHAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! I CAN'T STAND IT! PLEEEEEASE NOOOOHOHOHOHOHOHO! DON'T HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!"
Ernest's pleas fell on deaf ears. Chuck took some yarn and tied back Ernest's big toes to limit his movement. Bobby let the feather glide up and down Ernest's smooth soles.
The barn animals gazed on in utter confusion.
Ernest was tickled non-stop for ten minutes. He was in tears. This was the second time he had cried that day but this time it was tears of laughter instead of pain.
"P-please, no more," Ernest begged, when they let him rest.
Bobby stared at him solemnly for a moment, then grinned evilly and stroked his soles with the feather again.
Ernest exploded. "AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH HEEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHE! PLEASE NOOOOO HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!"
"Bobby, move over! Let me have a turn." Chuck got on the stool and began tickling Ernest's feet with his fingers. He scribbled up and down his vulnerable soles, starting at the heels and going up to his toesies.
This was worst torture yet for poor Ernest. He threw back his head as he screamed with laughter. His brown cap, which he wore every day of his life, flew off during his writhing. Tears poured from his eyes and his face was as red as his sore butt.
"AAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! NOOO NOOOOOOO! PLEEEEHEHEHEHEASE!"
Chuck laughed along with him. "Tickle tickle tickle...tickle tickle tickle!"
Bobby walked over to Ernest's legs and started squeezing his knees and thighs. Then he went over to his midsection and tickled his stomach. Bobby kept moving around, exploring all of Ernest's tickle spots. Chuck just focused on the feet, which was Ernest's most ticklish spot of all.
Ernest couldn't even beg for mercy anymore, he was laughing too hard. He knew he couldn't take much more of this before his bladder exploded...or he passed out. He needed rest badly.
Finally, Chuck and Bobby let up and gave him the break he so desperately needed.
Ernest was panting, sweating, and giggling like an idiot for a long time after they had stopped. He took a while to calm down.
"You're alright, buddy," Chuck assured him with a playful smack in the head.
Bobby unlocked the stocks and helped Ernest get his feet and hands out.
"No hard feelings, right?" Chuck asked.
Bobby remained silent as he used a cloth to dry Ernest's sweaty, tear-stained face.
Ernest rubbed his wrists and ankles which were reddish from the stocks. He glanced up at the brothers and cracked a smile. He could never be mad at them.
"Ya'll cheered me up when I felt terrible. Hard feelings? Nah! I feel a heck of a lot better now and it's because of you fellas. You just did what any good friends would do. Know what I mean?"
"Hey, you hungry?" Chuck asked out of the blue. He picked up his lunchbox and opened it. "I still have some goodies in here. You want some, Ernest?"
Ernest smiled a big smile. He was starving!
Chuck gave him a bag of oatmeal cookies and a pint of milk. Ernest thanked him and started munching away.
The End
