One blazin' hot Sunday afternoon, my
Pa and me was walkin' tall in the cotton. We was out lookin' to
shoot us some squaddies to cook up for supper. On our way back home,
we passed a pond full of toads and frogs. My Pa was a bit of a
frog-strangler. He took pleasure in watching there little froggy
eyes bug-out as they struggled to breathe. When I was 'bout eight
years old, pa tried to teach me the art of frog-strangling, I just
couldn't stand to watch the friendly creature die though. Pa got all
choked up at me for not being man enough to kill a dumb lil frog, he
got mad too, so he pole-axed me as discipline. I never understood
why letting that frog live was so bad, but since then I always did as
Pa said and strangled me some frogs.
Well, a-course since Pa saw all the
frogs he wanted to stop to strangle a few. Just as he was about to
squeeze the first frog we heard a gentle gasp and then a firm “stop”
from the opposite side of the pond. I looked across the pond to find
the owner of the voice, and what I saw was non-other than a purty lil
lass. She had big green eyes, a freckled face, and red hair worn two
long braids. I had a fancy for her right away; she was quite the
looker, nothin' like ole plug- ugly Betty Sue. Betty Sue was
whomper-jawed girl with a catty whompus face who has taken to
continuously asked me if I thought she was purty. Being the
gentleman I should be, I bluff and tell her she is the purtiest
creature I ever did see, but she takes this to mean I fancy her.
“Well howdy there, miss!” I
shouted cross the pond, “What must such a lovely lass as yourself
be doing out here all on your own?”
“That is non of your beeswax,” she
replied snobbishly, “the point is I came out here only to find you
and your father harming these poor innocent frogs.”
I tried to apologize,“I am so sorry
mi...”
“Well, I certainly am not!” Pa
interrupted, “I don't understand what your problem is miss. Don't
you have something better to do than ruin my fun!”
“YOU EVIL MAN,” Shrieked the girl,
“HOW COULD HURTIN' THESE FRIENDLY CREATURES BE “FUN”!!!”
Well, this
really set my Pa off and the two o'them began yellin' in conniptions
at each other. They continued their screamin' match for half an hour
when I had finally had it with them two.
“DAD GUM IT,”
I yelled to get their attentions, “This is ridiculous! Pa, you is
a sick man thinkin' that frog-strangling is fun and you ma'am,
whatever your name may be, you have quite the temper for such a purty
lass.”
“My
name is Mary, and I am sorry, but your father is insane. He must end
this wild activity and be kind to these poor froggies!” she
exclaimed, adding sheepishly, “Do you really think I'm pretty?”
Embarrassed
I replied, “Well shoot, Mary, your the darn purtiest gal I e'er saw. In
fact I wanted to ask you... Care to go larrupin' with me? I mean ya
don't have to, but I'd certainly be glad if ya did.”
“Yes!
I would love to!” she responded gleefully, “Shall we head off?”
And
we left my Pa behind and headed off (quite cheesily) into the sunset.
