Poor Harry. He's just about the most unfortunate buzzard you ever did see. Harry’s the kinda guy that buys the one box of Cracker Jacks they left the prize outa. If'n Harry went to a girlie show over to Onion City, you could be sure the night he went would be the night they raided the joint. His luck didn't run a whole lot better as far as bassin' was concerned, neither.
If 'n there was one thing Ol' Harry couldn't tolerate in his life, it was meddlin' relatives. 'Specially if 'n the meddler was his brother- in-law, Ralph. I don't know if'n y'all kin 'member back that far or not, but a long time ago I told you about Harry's brother-in-law and the unfortunate events what transpired when Harry 'n' me took him bassin'.
Wellsir, y'all ain't gonna believe this, but just a coupla days back, the tellyphone rang and ol' Ralph announced to Harry's wife Maybelline that he was fixin' to hop the Greyhound and come visit again. Naturally this turn of events teed Harry off.
"Woman, that no-good polecat brother of yourn ain't settin' foot in this house ever agin"!" Harry fumed. "Him and his sneaky ways... why, that buzzard'll want me to take him bassin' as sure as I'm standin' here!"
"Now Harry, be nice," cooed Maybelline. "You know how Ralph's been under a lot of pressure with his work lately. A little vacation will do him good!"
Ralph was a used car salesman, and the pressure Maybelline was speakin' of was no doubt the county sheriff puttin' the heat on him for turnin' back speedometers.
