Beyond Looney (by Robin)

Summary:   A REALLY Lost Episode

Word Count:  4700



                                            Beyond Looney


Adam urged his horse onward through the ink black night. It had taken him longer than he expected to leave Virginia City as he had found his horse dressed in Hoss’ old plaid flannel nightshirt and wearing a straw bonnet. Pink crepe paper streamers and orange tissue paper flowers adorned the saddle making it look like a piñata. Just as he finished taking off all that foolish frou frou, someone grabbed him from behind and gave him a wedgie… not just an ordinary wedgie, but an atomic wedgie, the kind of wedgie where not only was he lifted up by the waistband of his under pants, but the underpants were pulled over his head.

The air was filled with chortling and giggles as the perpetrators ran off into the night. Then, Adam was tossed in an alleyway filled with shmutzy, slimey garbage. It took him at least twenty minutes more to untangle himself. Had Roy Coffee not come along, he might still be stuck there with his head wedged in a discarded spittoon.

This was worse than being bushwhacked in the desert.

He had to make it home to the Ponderosa if it was the last thing he ever did. Pa would hide him from THEM.

It was getting to be too much! Whoopee cushions on his chair as he sat on jury duty! His hat filled with shaving cream! Hang up calls on his not yet invented cell phone! And the horror of the crazy glue on the seat of the outhouse!

His butt still burned and his face reddened reliving Doc Martin’s surgery. One more rise, one more turn in the road and the house would come into view.

He could hear them bearing down on him. Adam could almost feel their hot breath on his neck and the clawing of their long finger nails on his back and their custard pies on his face. He hadn’t felt fear like this since he had to face down maniacal Ross Marquette. Or that Wiley Coyote tossing anvils off Eagles nest.

This was worse than Miss Jones, the school marm, squeezing his…. never mind.

They were coming for him!

He kicked his tired horse in the ribs and the beast stumbled over his roller
blades. Damn! Adam should have removed them before he headed out of town but Roy had convinced him that he would make better time. Adam was thrown head over heels from the dying horse.

“Pa!” Adam screamed as darkness and the roving, raving, band of insane fan fiction women closed in on him.




AND NOW…, meanwhile back at the ranch…

“Pa? Do you hear some moanin’ and groanin’ from outside?” Hoss said to his father as he permitted Little Joe to cheat at checkers.

Joe never knew.

Pa had paid off Hoss to build up Little Joe’s self-esteem.

“Sounds to me like someone groanin’ and moanin’, more than moanin’ and groanin’,” Little Joe groaned as he quintuple jumped Hoss’ checkers. “Doncha think you should go check? Maybe it is one of Pa’s long lost friends’ lovely daughters who are terminally ill and …”

“MOAN!! GROAN!!” Gerthumpky plomp.

“Sounds like something is thudding on the porch…a wounded creature.” Hoss closed one eye and listened. He always diminished one sense in order to elevate another. When he had to use the seatless outhouse after Adam’s disturbing crazy glue on the seat incident, Hoss would close one eye and stand on one foot so as not to miss his target.

“Quit your gabbing boys! Go check what is groaning and moaning…” Ben ordered.

“Moaning and groaning, Pa!” Joe corrected and quadruple jumped Hoss’ checkers.

“ANSWER THE DOOOOOooooR!” Ben roared. “Go check what wounded creature is thrashing around on the porch and dispatch it immediately if need be!”

“Joe, you go!” Hoss urged.

“No, I went last time. It’s your turn, Hoss,” Joe argued triple jumping his brother’s remaining checkers.

“No, I went last time, when it was the bag of burning manure someone left on the doorstep…”

“Peggy Dayton,” Joe said, recalling the odiferous incident. “It’s Adam’s turn. I answered the door when the gypsy chieftain came by to borrow a pig.”

“Adam!” Ben roared. “Answer the door!”

“Paaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa…” came a moan or a groan from outside the door.

“Guess Adam is outside, Pa” Joe pointed out.

“And it sure sounds like he is a’ callin’ you, Pa. Maybe you should go answer the door.” Hoss suggested taking his “Improve Little Joe’s Self-Esteem” tally book from his pocket “You won the checker game, Little Brother. Dadblastit! Don’t go getting’ a swelled head now!”

Meanwhile, Ben sssssssssssssssllllllllllllloowly walked to the door. “What good is it that I have three sons if I have to answer the door myself?”

“PaaaaaaAAaa!” Adam groaned.

 “Sonny Boy!“ Ben knelt beside his injured first born. This was getting annoying. When would he finally get to enjoy his empty nest?

“I have a boo boo!“ Adam trembled.

“And that ain’t all!” Hoss said, squeezing his nose shut. “He’s been given an atomic wedgie!”

“And from the looks of it…” Joe’s lips trembled. “EX-lax brownies too.”

“Help me get him into the house,” Ben said.

“Uh uh!” Hoss and Joe shook their heads like matching Bobble heads. “No WAY!!”

“Yes Way!” Ben glared.

“We have to go get Doc Martin!” Hoss and Joe declared in unison.

“Both of you?” Ben asked.

“PaaAAaa!” Adam gasped through the fly of his boxers which were knotted over his handsome head.

“This is your brother! We all stick together!” Ben growled. “Joe, take a leg! Hoss take the other leg. I’ll take his shoulders.

Ben lifted the wounded man’s shoulders. Joe grabbed Adam’s left leg. Hoss grabbed Adam’s right leg. Unfortunately for Adam, Joe was standing to Adam’s right and Hoss to his left and by lifting the wrong leg, they torqued Adam and flipped him face down, wrenching him from Ben’s grasp.

THUD. Adam fell face down on the wooden planks of the Ponderosa porch. Good thing his boxers were over his face or he might have gotten a splinter in his nose or eye.

“OOOOFFFFff” Adam grunted as he fell and he expelled all the oxygen in his lungs.

“Let’s try this again, boys,” Ben ordered. “On the count of three….”




Meanwhile, at the HIDEOUT…

“I just don’t know what to say, for fear of what you might do,” Kathy said nervously tying up her horse and joining her companions in front of their hide out.

“Continue…continue…please continue,” Lillian declared. She slid down from her horse Knaidlach.

“Continue what?” Kathy asked tying up her horse. She had put the can of Silly String back in her brief case that she used as a saddle bag.

“What is that?” Lillian asked. She pushed open the creaking door of the hide-out shack. The place could use a good vacuuming but unfortunately for the Gal Gang, vacuums wouldn’t be invented for years.

(The first powered cleaner employing a vacuum was patented by H. Cecil Booth, a British engineer, in 1901. He noticed a device used in trains that blew dust off the chairs, and thought it would be much more useful to have one that sucked dust. He tested the idea by laying a handkerchief on the seat of a dinner chair, putting his mouth to it and sucking hard. Upon seeing the dust and dirt collected on the underside of the handkerchief he realized the idea could work. I didn’t make this up! It is from Wikkipedia!)

“What are you putting in your saddle bag?” Martha asked.

 “I need this for court in the morning…” Kathy lied. “It is a product liability case involving harassment, divorce, real estate and…”

“Leading us down the paths of temptation?” said Claire. She really preferred Joe Cartwright to all his brothers and cousins (including Muley and Will) and even Clay Stafford and Clem the deputy. However, she was the one who decided to put a kilt on Adam the last time they bushwhacked him. She was the International Atomic Wedgie champ.

“Me? Leading you? Hardee har har!” Kathy said indignantly wondering if she would wind up getting poison ivy from lurking in the brush waiting to ambush Hoss and Little Joe with Silly String as they galloped into Virginia City to fetch Doc Martin for injured Adam . “I am innocent!”

“Maybe you should plead mishugina,” Lillian suggested “My eldest son is an attorney and he could take on the case.”

“Mishugina?” asked Lynne.

“Insanity,” Lillian translated.

“We are innocent by reason of Looneyness?” Claire declared with a wink and a grin.

“Innocent? YOU?” Rona guffawed. Claire had been the one who thought of the not yet invented saran wrap on toilet seat prank that ruined Ben Cartwright’s brocade vest with a ricochet spray.

“Didn’t you know I am just young and as innocent as the day is long???? (and it is 22:20 here and still daylight, so you can see how impressionable I am),” Claire said reasonably.

“COOL! I wanna go and get into some trouble myself! (Any chance one of the boys would come rescue me, if I did?),” declared Christy as she carried in the water balloons.

“We can hold out here and hide from a posse for at least a week from here,” Kathy assessed.

“And then what?” Christy said looking up from the pile of water balloons she was stacking beside the window.

“And then we ride for the border!” Lillian suggested.

“All right! That’s what I wanted to hear. Trouble here I come!” Christy cheered, hoping she could get a few bottles of Pulque, a keg or two of tequila for herself and a case of tourista for her sister.

“Trouble here you come? Oh no!” Rona shook her head. She hadn’t signed up with the Gal Gang for anything but a lark and now she was in hiding from an armed posse.

“This is absurdity at its best…more…more…more…” Lillian demanded as Kathy S and Claire spun a web around the hide out with the Silly String.

“This should hold off Sheriff Coffee’s posse!” Kathy explained.

“Are you sure?” Christy asked nervously. She shoved aside the perky gingham café curtains (purchased at the Virginia City Tarjay) to look out the smudged windows. “I think I see someone coming up the trail!”

“Oh no! “ Claire gasped. “Is it the posse?”




 Meanwhile, back in Virginia City…

“Got to get that Gal Gang!” declared Fiorello Bosley, the newly elected mayor of Virginia City. “If they are willing to prank the Cartwrights, what will they do to me!”

“Well…” Deputy Clem scratched his neck. “It wasn’t exactly that they pranked all the Cartwrights. It was Adam Cartwright they pranked. Wasn’t all of them.”

“That’s true,” Roy Coffee said, scratching his arm pit.

“If they are after Adam, what else could they be doing to their neighbors!” Mr. Rogers said. He put on his sweater and scratched his stomach.

“That’s right! Olson’s Mercantile might fold if they prank more people here in Virginia City! I’ll have to move back to Walnut Grove!” declared Harriet Olson, who secretly had the hots for Little Joe Cartwright as did most of the women in town.

“That’s why I am sending my posse out after them Gals!” Roy said. His ankle itched furiously. “Gol Dang! What is this all about?”

Clem reached into the office trash can and discovered a can of Acme itching powder. “Look!”

“Those wacky gals! I am going to shoot them!” yelled Elmer Fudd.

“Let’s ride!” Sheriff Coffee said to the posse.

They all rushed out of the Sheriff’s office and leaped upon their horses and galloped out of town.




Later, at the Hideout…

“How do you know the Gal Gang is hiding in the hideout?” questioned Doubting Thomas. The posse had pulled up at a highway rest stop to have the horses watered, lubed, and for Harriet Oleson to use the powder room seventeen times to tinkle. Fiorello Bosley treated the entire posse to pepperoni and broccoli pizza. Sheriff Roy Coffee later lived to regret that lunch.

“How do we know?” Roy Coffee said, rubbing his vest. His heartburn was burning his heart worse than he imagined. He sure wished he had some of Doc Martin’s secret purple pill indigestion potion.

“Yeah! How do you know?” Mrs. Olsen came out of the powder room, adjusting her bustle.

“ ’Cause of her!” Roy pointed to the young lady behind the counter. “Her sister is part of the Gal Gang who has been pranking Adam Cartwright. She told us where the hide out is.”

“That’s totally correct!” said Christy’s sister, Sissy. She hated to see her sister and the others gunned down or hung if this mess got bigger.

“Besides,” Clem added. “It’s on the map!” He pointed to the large illuminated Formica map at the rest stop. A huge X said “you are here” and a big S. H. indicated “secret hideout”. It was right near the Virginia City Mall and the Silly String Farm.




Meanwhile back at the Hideout…

“I ‘m afraid I’m going to have to institute cease and desist orders if she’s told you all that. She just might spill the beans on the BAD stuff!” Christy said, realizing her sister Sissy had ratted out the Gal Gang.




Later at the Ponderosa…

“Pa! Look what we found!” Hoss shouted.

“It’s a note wrapped around a rock,” Joe called as he and Hoss came back into the house. They had just spent the last hour riding into Virginia City and bringing Doc Martin back from town to tend battered Adam.

“What does it say?

“Here’s a bit more. Sorry I can’t write as fast as Robin does but I’ll get  there,” said the note from Kathy.

“Write? Doesn’t she mean ‘ride’?” asked Little Joe.

“And who is Robin?” asked Hoss.

Joe shrugged not knowing who or what Robin was. “Maybe Adam knows? But we can’t ask him now.”

“Doc Martin still is with him,” Ben said coming down the stairs. His shirt was spattered with the Silly String he had scraped off his eldest son’s battered face. Worse yet, Adam had told his father about the horrible Mentos and Diet Coke explosion he had survived.

Editor’s note: Check out




“Pa,” Adam gasped as Ben pulled the sticky goop from Adam’s matted chest hair. “I really loved that girl.”

“Which girl?” Ben asked gently.

“The girl with the English accent who defiantly chugged the diet coke and then swallowed the Mentos…”

“She…she…didn’t!” Ben gasped knowing that combination was worse than a shed full of nitro and a prowling cat…or coal oil and matches or Hoss and gypsies.

“Yeah Pa,” Adam sighed. “She’s gone and we only just got engaged and registered for gifts at Olsen’s Mercantile.”

Ben gave Adam a fatherly hug and thought, “Hmmmm… now I don’t have to bother buying that not yet invented vacuum cleaner or those ugly cake plates.”




“Will…will Adam be ok?” Hoss said, tears coming to his eyes.

“Will Adam be ok?” Ben repeated thinking of the icky goo Adam had stuck in his left ear and the purple whoppee cushion Ben had peeled off Adam’s bottom… It wasn’t easy being a single dad.

“Will Adam be OK, Pa?” Joe demanded more insistently. “Pa! Tell us the truth!”

At that moment, Doc Martin came down the stairs. “I can do with a cup of coffee.”

“What about ADAM!!!” the three Cartwrights gasped in unison.

“Will he be able to play the violin?” Hoss asked hopefully.

“With rest, sure. Adam is a strong boy,” Doc nodded eyeing Ben’s brandy hopefully.

“Funny, Adam wasn’t able to play the violin before,” Hoss smiled. He pictured himself dancing gracefully to Adam’s violin.

Hoss always longed to dance the part of the Swan Prince in Swan Lake. This would be his big opportunity to star on the stage of Piper‘s Opera House. For a moment, Hoss was lost in his fantasy rather than worrying about avenging Adam’s humiliation with the Gal Gang.

Doc Martin, on the other hand, helped himself to Ben’s brandy. It wasn’t easy removing a bale of silly string and a Frisbee from an innocent man’s spleen.




Meanwhile, back at the hideout…

“Yo! You gals in there! This is Sheriff Roy Coffee! You better come out now or…”

“Or what?” came a female voice from the rustic cabin hideout.

“Or…or… we are gonna start shooting!” Deputy Clem tossed out. Then he turned to Harriet Olson and Mayor Fiorello Bosley. “How was that? Did that sound good?”

Glaring angrily at Clem and cutting him off before he could say another stupid thing, Roy Coffee said “Goldurn you! I am in charge here! I am the sheriff!”

“Shoot! Shoot!” urged Doubting Thomas.

“We’ll come out under one condition!” said one of the gals.

“What’s that?” Roy asked.

“We get some coffee and can meet alone with the sheriff!”

“Then we can start shooting?” Clem’s eyes lit up. Perhaps Roy would be hit by a stray bullet and he could step up to a promotion.




Later, on the other side of the HIDEOUT…

“Coffee Ma’am?” the sheriff said, handing the gal a steaming cup of mocha java latte with extra cinnamon. “I made it myself with my portable cappuccino machine that I always tote with me on posses. And I have some swell biscotti too.” Roy Coffee had learned at the Sheriff’s “How to Negotiate with Miscreants and Hostage Holders” Seminar at the Annual Wild West Lawman’s convention that giving folks food is a good way to get to their better sides. He had wanted to go to the “How to Handcuff Women” seminar but it was all filled up.

“Just what I needed for my morning coffee. Thanks!” said Kathy who was acting as attorney and spokesmodel for the Gal Gang group.

“Did you know my name isn’t really Roy Coffee?” Roy ventured.

“It isn’t?” Clem was shocked. “What is it?”

“Roy D. Caff. Roy Coffee sounded a lot more manly,” the sheriff admitted. “Now you share something personal with me, Miss Kathy.”

“Hmmm, I thought I had,” Kathy batted her eyelashes at the sheriff. “Remember when I helped you select your signature plaid/checked/striped ensemble?”

Roy blushed and sparks flew out of the ends of his moustache. “Aw shucks, Miss Kathy. You promised not to tell about that time you measured my inseam!”

Then, realizing she had the upper hand and could woo the sheriff and perhaps negotiate freedom for the Gal Gang, Kathy elbowed Christy, “Ask Roy about the tome we spent in Starbocks together.”

“Starbocks? Tome? Don’t you mean time? Don’t you mean Starbucks? That coffee place named after the space guy on Battle Star Galactica? You know that show where the boss guy looks like Ben Cartwright,” Clem snickered.

“No, that was Apollo.” Roy corrected. “And no way that show is better than Star Trek!”

Oh, that was TERRIBLE!! Hahahahaha!” Christy laughed nervously.

“Now are you gals gonna turn yourself in?” Roy asked standing next to the high cliff behind the Hide Out.

“For what?” asked Christy.

“For what you gals done to poor Adam Cartwright!” Clem said.

“What if we wrote nice letters of apology?” Lillian said. “I do write remarkably, extremely, exceptionally well. We certainly didn‘t intend to harm Adam. It was merely a trick, a prank, a hoax, a…”

“Whatever!” Martha cut her short. “Let our attorney come up with an agreement and we can call this a done deal, Sheriff Coffee.”

“And no one will ever know about your real name!” Christy added.

“That’s right!” all the gals nodded in agreement.

“Except me! Roy D. Caf!” Clem chortled.

Suddenly an anvil fell off a cliff and hit Clem right on his head.

“WILEY COYOTE!!!” everyone screamed.

“Think he might get amnesia?” Roy asked hopefully.

“Beep beep!” said the Roadrunner.

Outside the Hide Out, gathered around the still breathing but unconscious body of dopey Deputy Clem Foster who had been conked by an anvil tossed from an overhanging cliff by Wiley Coyote, Sheriff Coffee and the Gal Gang conferred.

“OK,” said Kathy. “I’ll put the agreement together in triplicate for the signing.”

“Take your time, Snooky Darling!” Roy swooned, eyeing Kathy. Although she had no interest in the gnarly sheriff, she wasn’t going to pop his bubble. If her lawyer-ing could get the Gal Gang free and have peace in the territory, she was going to do what needed to be done to save her pals. Once the agreement was signed and Territorial Judge Jude Dee approved, Kathy would let Roy down gently.

“Lynch ‘em! Lynch ‘em!” shouted the posse from the other side of hideout. They were being egged on by Harriet Olsen, who figured her Mercantile would clean up on the tourist business. She even claimed she could get her cousins, The Olsen twins — Mary Kate and Ashley — to make a personal appearance in Virginia City. “If you pay for their stage tickets and put them up in the International Hotel, the girls might be willing to pull the lever on the trap door of the gallows! And they don‘t eat much!” suggest Harriet

“Hustle your bustle, Kathy!” Christy urged nervously, despite Roy telling her to take her time.

“Yes, the stage leaves for Scotland at midnight!” said Rona and Claire. They hoped to make a quick exit before things got worse. “Hurry up!”

“Why, I think you have to finish it up! You can’t leave the Gal Gang hanging…er…I shouldn’t give Roy and the hanging posse any ideas. You know what I mean, Kathy said.

“Let’s get that letter of apology written, Lillian. That crowd is getting restless out front!” Martha said tugging on her chum’s frock. “Make it short and sweet!”

“LYNCH ‘em! LYNCH ‘em!” came a call from the posse.

“Hurry Lillian!” said Christy.

“Are you perhaps intimating, insinuating, or implying that I am verbose or garrulous and have a regrettable proclivity to transform simple statements into prolix sagas?” protested Lillian. “Besides, I am going to write a thinly disguise novel about this incident that would make a terrific not yet invented movie or mini series!”

“A movie would be swell!” grinned Roy Coffee, who had a face for radio.

“Sounds like a deal. Whose’s producing it anyway?” Kathy asked. She would quickly write up a contract for her gang to get a percentage of future royalties and mention in the credits as consultants.

“Oh I think it is a bidding war between DW Griffith and Walt Disney,” said a voice from behind a rock

“I hope DW Griffith gets it. I always wanted to see a real cattle drive with a cast of thousands!” Laura said excitedly, forgetting the lynch mob outside as she hoping that Jennifer Anniston or Cher could play her in the movie.

“Funny. I don’t remember a cattle drive, Laura,” Kathy said. She hoped Jennifer Anniston, Cher or one of the Dixie Chicks could play her.

“Well, you know Hollywood. They rarely stick to the book!” Rona reminded them.

“We can film in Australia and EXPLODE Marie Cartwright and have Roy Coffee played by Oprah and then call her Clem….make all the men sappy and whiney!” Beth S. clapped her hands together as she immerged from the posse. She hoped everyone would be hung and she could get all the money, rather than honoring any honorable agreements that had been worked out.

Suddenly a shot rang out!

Beth fell to the ground dead, a bullet between her eyes.

“Who did that?” Roy yelled.

“Jamie!” accused Fiorello Bosley.

“Jamie Who?” exclaimed Lillian.




Later, back at the Ponderosa everyone celebrated with a spaghetti dinner prepared by Hop Sing. (SPAGHETTI? you ask. Don’t forget Marco Polo brought Spaghetti back to Italy from China. Check this out: for more info on pasta, noodles Marco Polo and macaroni)

“I think Maureen O’Hara or Yvonne di Carlo should play me,” Kathy said to Cecil B. De Mille who had arrived on the afternoon stage to work on the film of the “Girl Gang of the Golden West”.

“Yvonne di Carlo? Lilly Munster? Hoss gasped. He secretly admired Fred Gwynne and hoped he would be cast in the Hoss role or John Wayne.

“No! “ Kathy giggled. “Lotta Crabtree!”

“Lotta!” Adam sighed.

“Mmmmm mmmm! Love that Lotta a lot!” Little Joe sighed. He was hoping to show Mr. De Mille the scripts he had secretly been writing in his spare time. All the times his family thought he was sneaking out to play poker and flirt with saloon girls, Joe was in his secret writing den working on screenplays. His favorite was for a show he called “Tiny Cabin on the Frontier” about a jolly, happy pioneer family called the Outgalls.

“Lotta Crabtree?” Adam smiled knowingly. Sparks flew between him and Kathy. Kathy’s eyes met Adam’s and they both thought of that torrid kiss Lotta and Adam had shared in one of the last scenes in that episode, before the Cartwrights howled like coyotes and rode out of town singing the Bonanza theme, badly. (For more fascinating details on this topic check:

Adam winked.

Kathy batted her eyelashes.

Adam wiggled his left eyebrow.

Kathy licked her lips seductively. Then she blew him a kiss.

Adam gazed longingly at the lady attorney. “Kaaaaaaaaaaaathy….”

“WOWza!” gasped Kathy. No one had ever said her name like THAT!

“WOWza!” gasped all the gals in the Gal Gang. This was HOT!

Lillian elbowed Kathy. “Go on. Go on. Ask him!”

“Did you like the apology note Lillian wrote, Mr. Cartwright?” Kathy asked

“Call me ….Adam,” he said smiling.

Steam came out of Kathy’s ears as she momentarily melted into a pool of melted, steamy meltdown. “Adam,” she sighed as he took her into his arms.

“You scared me for a minute there when you melted into a pool of melted, steamy, meltdown,” Adam whispered into her ear as he held her in his muscular cowboy hero arms.

“I’m so sorry we pranked you, Adam!” Kathy whispered seductively.

“I’m not! Except for the chunk of hair missing from the back of my head, I’m as good as new. Maybe better,” proclaimed Adam.

“Do you need a will or power of attorney or restraining order or something?” Kathy offered. “I can do the work for you no charge!”

“Let’s discuss this over a PRIVATE DINNER (which is the code word for ….ahem…),” said Adam. “And you can rub salve on my ….”

Joe and Hoss giggled, knowing that Adam used that salve rubbing line on only the most special gals.

“AHEM!” coughed Ben.

“Ahem! AHEM!” chided Lillian. “AHEM AHEM!!! And I don’t want to even discuss what Ben and Joyce Edwards might have done while picking grapes.”

Ben smiled knowingly.

Joe giggled.

Hoss said “Love that grape jam!”

Adam was too busy with Kathy to talk.



The Gal Gang got off due to the brilliant legal maneuvering of Kathy, and the eloquently written letter of apology that Lillian scribed.

Kathy had a torrid romance with Adam Cartwright.

Jamie (Who?) disappeared and was never charged with the murder of Beth S. which went to the Cold Case Files.

Roy Coffee, who served as a consultant to the movie eventually married Jennifer Anniston (who played Lillian). Jennifer revealed on Entertainment Tonight that men who wore plaid/stripes/and checks in one outfit drove her wild and she was looking for a stable man with a civil service job instead of mercurial vain boy toys. The wedding was on the Ponderosa and Ben Cartwright was the Best Man. Little Joe and Hoss hosted the bachelor party, but that is another story. Roy and Jennifer named their first child D. Caf.

Along with Doctor Boudreau, Kathy and Adam also patented the special salve that she put on Adam’s injured parts. It was featured on Oprah and made millions for them.


The End

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