Date:         Mon, 24 Feb 1997 13:07:06 -0500
From: Catherine Berchtold <bercht@PIPELINE.COM>
Subject:      INT: Hillbilly Haven

Daisy come a runnin from the alley jist in time to hear Momma
yell, "Ohmigawd!!  They done shot Pa and Bertha Mae."

Pa grabbed Momma's plump shoulders, shook her a bit and
hollered in her face, "I'm fine, woman!  Now get a hold of
yerself!  We gots to tend to my baby girl!"

There wuz a crowd gathered around the huge body of Bertha
Mae with a cloud of dust hoverin over 'em what got stirred up
when Bertha Mae done fell to the dirt street.

Daisy made her way  through the crowd, squatted down beside
her sister and looked inna her pain filled eyes.

"That dang fool done shot me in my childbearin hips!  If he done
messed up my saunterin walk, I'm gonna crack his skull!"  The
wounded sister began to growl like a bitch birthin pups.

Pa parted the crowd jist like Mose and took the situation in hand.
"My baby girl needs to see a doc."  He scanned the townsfolk as
if darin 'em to speak.  "I'm talkin 'bout a real doc.  One of 'em
city kind.  Anybody got an automobile what can take her?"

"I do, Sir!"

All the townsfolk stared at that city slicker and a murmur swept
through the street 'bout the fancy pants what owned an automobile.

Pa gave him the evil eye and threatened, "Okay, City Slicker, you
haul her inna the doc but don't be gettin any funny iders.  You bring
my baby girl back the way you done took her.  Understand me?"

"Uh, yes, Sir.  But don't you want the doc to take the bullet out?"

"I jist might kill you yet, City Slicker."

Pa, the blacksmith, a lumberjack and the town boxer bent down
to hoist Bertha Mae outta the street and put her inna the lux'ry Vega.
Try as they might, they couldn't fit those childbearin hips through
the car door.  One of the men standin by, handed over a rope and
had a right bright idea on what to do.



Daisy Mae had a tear in her eye as she waved goodbye to her sister
who was roped to the hood of that purty, lux'ry Vega.  After the
automobile drove outta sight, everybody in town turned to ol' Henry
Cleatus.

The men folk wuz a shoutin to tar n' feather him and Pa wuz a shoutin
to jist let him shoot the dang fool.

"I wuz jist tryin to help!!  All the men folk wuz a fightin over them
childbearin hips and I figured if I'd shoot 'em, there wouldn't be nuthin
to fight fer!"  Henry done his best to talk his way otta the mess.

"I'm the law in this here town and I'll take care of ol' Henry!"  Sheriff
Li'l Brick stood toe to toe with him.  "I hate to do this to ya but we're
gonna have a show down."

"What's it gonna be, Li'l Brick, guns, knives, ropes or what?"  Henry
done throw'd his shoulders back and stood up rat proper.

"Ain't nothin like that.  We're gonna play three rounds of stomp toe.
But seein the seriousness of the crime you done committed, I'm gonna
leave my boots on."

The two men began to circle each other inna the middle of the dirt street.
Tension built near to bursting jist like the pastor's wife's corset after the
spring picnic.  Then, all of a sudden, both of 'em raised their heel and aimed
for the other fella's toes.