That son-of-a-***** made a mighty fine quilt. Now, you might be thinking, “Impossible, I make the finest quilt in town, just ask Aunt Bessy”, and you’d be justified to think that, but only because you ain’t seen this new kid work a quilt. His names Doug. He claims he’s from Iowa, but I know an Iowan when I see one, and I know that he ain’t no Iowan. I reckon he’s probably from South Dakota, they got a pretty distinctive smell, kinda pretty, but also kind of dumb. Now, don’t get to thinking I’m an authority on state sniffing, I ain’t sayin no such thing. Admittedly, I never smelled the kid, but he looked like he was giving off that kinda odor.
Anyhow, I reckon yall should come on down yonder to the pa-pa patch and check this youngster out. Might even get to see us some quilting. I gotta warn you first though. He’s allergic to photography, so don’t go bringing no cameras thereabouts. He also has to stay in a glass cage with a special breathing and feeding apparatus lest he be exposed to wind. And we don’t want that! He’d, just as easy as beating up Joe Henry’s seven year old daughter, disintegrate right on the spot. Nah, it don’t got nothing to do with politics, what it means is that he’d turn into little dust mites. Scoff at me now, but I done see it happen to Sally Sue’s old heifer not but a week ago, while I was fishing in the creek. Oh, you had her butchered? Well, damn, what’d you go get that done for? Weren’t no milk? Well…hell woman, oughta warn a man before letting him get to thinking that he seen it evaporate before his very eyes. Huh? Means the same thing as disintegrate. C’mon, the only one of us that don’t got at least a Ph.D. is old Ben, the town drunk, and he ain’t even here! Er…means you’re educated. I don’t know what it stands for, that’s just what the doc. calls it when he’s talking about his credentials. Yes, you are; you graduated middle school with me! You can’t go telling people you ain’t been educated.
Seriously now, any wind touch that boy and he’s as good as gone. Now don’t get into yo’ mind to be offing the competition! I seen that glint in your eye, Betty Jane! We all know you rigged the county fair pie contest. Ah, come off it, we all know you only won cause the other competitors was dead. I ain’t sayin you killed em’, just sayin’ old Misses Carter made a mean Upside-down Rum cake that woulda gotten first place if she hadn’t stolen your gun and used up two whole rounds on her back. Stop interrupting me!
Where was I? That wasn’t even funny Mr. Mueller, I suggest you take that back. Or else what? Or else we have an old fashioned wrastling match right here and now! That’s right you’ll take it back. You owe me one of them Hershey’s Bars too!
Damn it! What was I talking to you about? Nah, yall already met Doug hadn’t you? Really? Alright then. Er…ahem…Doug also excepts donations to help him deal with his debilitating illness. No, you can’t buy his quilts! How the hell would he be able to sell you a quilt, he’s in damn fish tank, boy! Well, I guess he just lets them build up until he can get to one of them special laboratories. I don’t know, no more questions.
I guess we better get to movin’ if we’re gonna get to see him before supper. Yes, I already told you he eats, and no, you ain’t feedin’ him, Betty Jane! Yeah, he can talk, but don’t embarrass the boy, he lives in fish tank for Christ’s sake!
-Grocat the Pathological Love Machine