"Reckon It's Too Quiet"

Last time it was this quiet was the time Aunt Bertha farted in church, and hit the preacher with a Budweiser can that fired out her backside like a bottle rocket.

            It even made poor old Jethro holler, "That smells like a dead skunk baking in the sun for a week!” and he lost his smell in Nam.

            Now, it really got wilder than a pig in heat when the preacher said, "No wonder where this went. I was looking for this can". Needless to say, his wife wasn't too thrilled about that comment. The last thing I remembered was Cletus trying to stop the wife, but she done kicked him in the nuts, and he fell on top of me. I went out like a candle in them tornados.

            I woke up some time later, only to find myself in a bed with 10 youngin's and 5 coonhounds

I find my britches over some old dresser. I put them on, and notice my can of Skoal is done missin'. I look up and see Cletus' sis done stole it, and used the whole can.

I was fixin' to knock out her last good toof, but her Pappy almost peppered my hide with his 12 gauge.

I got out there faster than a June bug, only to slip in a cow pie. I done hit my head against a truck, and rolled down into them poison ivy.

            I finally got out of there, but my skin was burning hotter than Aunt Mary Lou’s pepper sauce. I strolled down by the crick hoping to cool myself off.

Well, I done dropped my britches, and jumped in. As I got used to the cold water, I done feel a sharp pain on my backside. I turn around, and see a dag nabbit turtle done take a bite out of my hide. I jump out of the crick, and run all the way home.

As I make it onto the highway, the sheriff pulls me over. He looks at me, and shakes his head. "Son, since you seem to have a bad enough day already, I reckon I'll take you to the doc so he can fix you up."

So, I arrive at the doc's naked as a new baby. He looks at me, and shouts, "Lordy, Sheriff! Where did you find this mess?" The sheriff says, "I found him running alongside the road."

"Son, what's ailing you?" asks the doc. I turn around, and show him where that snapping turtle bit me. He looks at it and says, "Lie down, son. I need to stitch you up." He looks at the red spots and adds, "Also, got you something for that ivy rash."

            Needless to say, the moral of this story is never to go to church after Aunt Bertha competes in the chili cook off.