Recently, a meeting was held in Duluth's DBD Headquarters to mourn the loss of a formerly respected member. No, he didn't pass on to the great unknown, he merely fell from grace.
Once a great man and someone I was proud to call my training partner has lost all semblance of dignity, honor, and just plain self. The beginning of the end took place at the wintry scene of the famed Tuscobia Ultra, where he walked among entrants with the swagger of a man in his 20's. He entertained all as he told tales of past exploits. Men gathered at his feet listening to his yarns, while others stood in the distance, mouths agape.
The race itself told no lies as it dispatched the aged Farrow or Hondo as some know him with extreme prejudice. Farrow attempted to follow DBD protocol or so his story goes, but his WWI revolver faltered (again). He claims he went one step further in a last ditch effort at honor, hurling himself off a train trestle of sorts, into a rocky ravine. Alas, he survived and without a scratch which lends further questions to his claim.
DBD members held court at Duluth's Kitchi Gamme Club to determine Farrow's future within the adventure society. The scene moved from nervous supporters milling about sipping brandy to a fevered pitch as talk of Buffington's arrival gained momentum. Young Buff, or Big Buff (also a training partner I'm proud to say) is our rising star and has emerged as a figure of admiration among members and nonmembers alike. It's clear that his status among the DBD clan not only remains solid, but quite possibly climbs in rank. Soaring off a win at the previously mentioned Tuscobia Ultra he remains the apple of our eye. The irony of it all is that it was the broken soul, Farrow who once fought for Big Buff's, or back then, Jason's acceptance into the group. Now, it appears that it is Buffington who has gained Mallory's favor and may soon replace Farrow.
As the meeting was called to order Sir Mallory called for a moment of silence to remember and offer internal salutations to the aged one as it was clear the committee had made it's decision although no formal vote had taken place. Just then and without warning a stud of sorts entered via the east wing. It was Buffington, tan, handsome, and striding with his feet above the ground. Shackleton rose first calling out..."3 CHEERS FOR BUFFINGTON, 3 CHEERS!!!" The committee let out a resounding, "HIP, HIP, HURRAY...HIP, HIP, HURRAY...HIP, HIP, HURRAY!!". I found myself shoved to the back of the crowed, almost exiled as I am known to have supported Hondo through previous suspect trials. Quickly, the lad Buffington was hoisted high upon the shoulders of founding members Crazy Horse, Shackleton, and recent inductee Henry Hudson. The room erupted with cries of, "CAPITAL, GOOD SHOW, LONG LIVE BUFF!!!" Suffice it to say all thoughts of Farrow's legacy were dashed.
Dazed, I stumbled to a chair at the back of the room and wept the tears of a man lost, yet filled with the promise of a new beginning in the rise of Big Buff's star. As if I were born of two fathers I was torn by memories of Hondo's early tutelage, quickly replaced by this young upstart's hunger and talent. The tears ran down my cheeks, while a smile crept across my face...