I've told this one before but it's a pretty good dufas one (I have plenty

).
Growing up I had this rotund friend Donald (Oliver Hardy twin) who lived across the road. One evening he calls "you have to check out what Dad bought today...I'll be in the garage". Their garage was a small wooden shed with one door you roll open. In the country they were about 1/4 mile away and as I got closer I saw the light on so I went in. There was Donald sitting on a new 1962 Bolens garden tractor like one in picture. It was a big deal since they didn't have much money.
He starts it up and starts revving the motor when I see the devil look as he gets out his pocket knife. Overhead was a Virginia country ham which he cuts the rope on, backs over it and flips the pto on with engine wide open.
That was when the door rolls open, his Dad standing there and over engine his Dad yells "DONALD WHAT THE HE---" which is all he could get out because his face, glasses, mouth, shirt got covered in minced ham. Donald shut the key off and before he got off the seat his mom ran in with a flyswatter beating him so hard the plastic flew off and she continued with the wire handle.
I managed to slip away back home out of the fracus.
Years later Donald inherented the Bolens when he bought a house in a small village about 10 miles away after he got married. He was showing me around, it was on a small triangular lot on a hillside and the upper corner had a big pile of old brick he said he would haul off "one day". So about a month later was the "one day" when he drove the Bolens up to the corner with his Dad's small home made trailer. Being it was so steep he had a log with a rope tied to it for a wheel chock. Then he loaded the trailer which as he said just barely held all the bricks piled up high. So my 280 pound friend hops on the Bolens, puts it in gear and yanks the rope. He said he thought he could ease it down but instead it took off like a rocket.
At this point he said so many things went through his head like probably 8 mph was top speed it was designed to go, the little brakes weren't meant to do much, and with him and load of bricks it was probably over 1,000 pounds so no way to jump off, he would just have to ride it out.
His wife later said it sounded like the motor was going to blow up when he went by the house "about 30 mph!"
At the end of their gravel drive it went out onto asphalt road and thank God no one was coming. Now me...I'd probably have tried turning left going uphill but he went right towards town spilling bricks along the way. The steering wasn't made for that twisty downhill run but he kept it in the road as he prayed. They lived about a mile from the little town and he said it seemed like he was there in seconds. He said going past the convenience store lot he got a glimpse of people watching out the windows as he bounced across the railroad tracks spilling more bricks.
Finally he pulled into a dumpster site "with a lighter load of bricks and what flew out my britches" he later told me.
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