Date:         Sat, 15 Mar 1997 00:01:31 -0500
From: tori <tori@NEO.LRUN.COM>
Subject:      Re: INT: Hillbilly Haven

Catherine Berchtold wrote:
>
> The sun ricocheted off the stranger's bright-white name tag as
> he stood in the middle of town square.  His pants were chocolate
> polyester and his shirt was brown and white checked.  Oh yes,
> he was a snazzy dresser.  The envy of every man around and
> the swooner of every woman.
>
> He cleared this throat and shouted, "I'm the new stranger in town
> but some of you might have heard of me.  I am the grilled onions
> manager at one of the finest dinning restaurants in the area, White
> Castle.  I'm known as far up north as Michigan.  I'm the Castle King
> and I aim to find me a woman."


A murmur went through the crowd that gathered.  He had one of those fine
paper hats that all the men envied when they went to one of them thar
"fast food" restrawnts.  His tennis-shoes (oh, they were WHITE, not
brown or red from the dirt or clay 'round town!) gleamed in the sun.

Someone in the crowd said, "How 'bout Daisy Mae?!"  Everyone murmured
some more. And when the new stranger shouted over the murmurin', "Well,
where's she at?" the crowd scrambled to find her--searchin' under rocks
and behind doors.  They was all yellin, "Here Daisy Mae.  Here Daisy
Mae!  Come out, Daisy Mae."  And the stranger stood there in the middle
of the square and waited.