Fight

Well, I'll tell you what, it was just a normal night down at the tavern where I was gettin' pretty good'n'drunk on whiskey with the boys. Then out of nowhere comes in some fella wearin' these nice fancy clothes and cologne. If I was blacked out and didn't know where I was, I would've sworn I was in one of those god damned city taverns they call 'clubs'.

Well let me tell you, we don't appreciate none of them pretty boys comin' into our taverns. Either they are from the city or they wish they were from the city. So soon as he walked in me and the fellas decided he wasn't welcome at that tavern none. So we went and confronted him and right away he got onto one of those god damned cellulose phones or whatever the fuck they call them things and called up some more of his pretty boy friends. So naturally ole' Clem got into his pickup and got on the CB (a real communication device) and we got ourselves a posse together and we all met outside the tavern.

Anyway the fight was something else, after a case of broken beer bottles were broken over these fuckers' heads we had them scatterin' like a bunch of fuckin' city ass liberals like they are.

Since it was likely that the sheriff was being called, we had to move the party to my machine shed. Chubs must've been a little too drunk as he never showed up and we found his pickup wrapped 'round a tree the next day. Ain't heard from him in a while.