Gideon Jonathan ‘Giddy’ Tucker is the narrator of the short story I’m writing for the Guinness World Record attempt.
Writer: Morning, Giddy! Say hello to the ladies and gentlemen.
Giddy (removes his hat and smiles brightly): Mornin’, folks! Here are some cookies that Ma sent, miss Terblanche.
W: Thanks, kid! So, Giddy, I told you that we’re having an interview today, right?
G: Yes, ma’am.
W: Are you ready?
G: Of course, ma’am. Fire away!
W: Alright, so first off, tell us a bit about yourself. How old are you? Where do you live? Do you have any family? Do you have any pets?
G: I’ll be eleven years old, come November, ma’am. I’m gettin’ quite old now, although it makes Ma laugh when I say that. We live on the old Tucker place, down near the river crossing outside of Mitchell’s Folly. It’s a right pretty ranch! We’ve got plenty of water and grazin’ for the cattle, and the house is built in the shade of a big old tree that makes it cool in the summer. The barn ain’t so pretty right at the moment, on account of Mr….now, you said I wasn’t to give away anything about the story. So I’ll just say that some fool got it in his head to try and burn our barn, and we’re just in the process of repairing it at the moment.
W: Ha, nice save there, mister Tucker. Alright, but we still want to hear about your family and pets.
G: So, some of you probably know that my pa died a while ago. Ma and I, we had a hard time for a while. Grievin’ and keepin’ the ranch runnin’ and lookin’ after the stock. But it’s going better now, on account of us getting somebody to help out. I can’t say who the help is, because miss Terblanche is giving me the stink eye again, to show me I shouldn’t spoil the story.
Anyways, except for Ma and me, there’s also my little sister, Becky. And goodness, is she a brat! But she’s also as cute as a button, so it’s kinda hard to stay cross at her for any amount of time.
As for pets, we have a big ugly old dog named the Mutt, that’s probably a bit older than me and twice as friendly. Mr Doyle, he’s the sheriff, also brought Becky a kitten the other day, but she prefers staying out of sight in the barn and hunting for things. We also have horses, of course. Jim and Peter, the two horses we use to plough or draw the buckboard, and then there’s Allie, Ma’s black, and Bluebell, my roan. Bluebell’s the fastest, of course.
W: Bluebell’s the fastest? Last time I heard, Allie beat him by a head.
G (waves a dismissive hand): We all know it’s only because I was feelin’ a little under the weather last time Ma and I raced. Next time we’ll beat her for sure!
W: Okay, okay. I’ll take your word for it. So, tell us about your story. But only the parts we decided on, right?
G: Right. It’s pretty exciting. See, Ma apparently has a brother named Andrew. Can you imagine that! For eleven years I’ve lived my life without knowing that I had a whole, live uncle, just for myself. Of course, he’s Becky’s uncle as well, but she hasn’t taken a liking to him yet.
When he first got into town I didn’t know it was Ma’s brother of course, and I was quite suspicious of him, on account of his glaring at me and Becky the whole time. And then he tried to break into our house the following night, and it was then that I found out that he was my uncle. Ma told me he was an outlaw, but now I understand it was just a big misunderstanding between the two of them.
And then, if that weren’t enough excitement, poor Becky was kidnapped. Or should I say, a poor man tried to kidnap Becky? They had to kidnap me as well, after a while, on account of them not getting her to shut up. She even bit one of the gunslingers until he bled all over the floor. I’ll tell you, that was one time I was glad that she’s such a brat!
W: Ugh, those poor guys. They had no idea what was in stall for them when they messed with the Tuckers, huh?
G: No, ma’am, they sure didn’t!
W: Well, it’s been a pleasure chatting with you, Giddy! I’m pretty sure all these folks are just as excited to read your story as I am to finish writing it.
G: You’re not finished with it yet?
W: Well…if you could get your uncle to talk to me, that would be great! I can’t finish the story if the guy just plain refuses to open his mouth.
G: You know uncle Andrew! He ain’t one for talkin’ much. But I’ll try to soften him up.
W: I’d be much obliged. Thanks again for coming, Giddy!
G: It was a pleasure being here, ma’am. Good bye!