Junior Writes Me a Letter

Well, I got a letter from my cousin in Tennessee the other day and since I’m having a hard time getting stuff to put in our newsletter, I thought I’d share it with you.

Dear Dave,

I haven’t written you in quite a while and find I have some time on my hands so I thought I’d drop you a line.  Things here in Mud Holler are pretty much the same as they’ve always been.  Not a whole lot changes around here.

Sissy-Lee (Junior’s wife) just got off the phone with Aunt Gertie.  She was telling me how Aunt Gertie got pulled over for speeding…Again!  You know Aunt Gertie’s weight is down to about sixty  pounds when she’s dripping wet and I’m guessing about twenty of those pounds is in her right foot.

Anyway, Sissy-Lee tells me that when the police officer pulled Aunt Gertie over and asked her for her driver’s license she told him she didn’t have one.  She said the judge had taken it away from her cause she’d had a snoot-full once too often at the Church Social and got caught driving drunk…again! 

I told Sissy-Lee that’s the first I’d heard about Aunt Gertie being a lush and Sissy-Lee told me to shush and quit interrupting her.  Any-hoo, after Aunt Gertie tells the cop she doesn’t have a license, the cop asks her for her registration and proof of insurance.  Aunt Gertie then tells the cop she doesn’t have any registration or proof of insurance cause she’s stole the car. 

I started to ask Sissy-lee “ what-the-heck” but she raised her hand up, you know how she is, and I knew I was about to get smacked so I didn’t say anything. Sissy-Lee went on and said that then Aunt Gertie tells the cop she’d murdered the owners of the car and had them in the trunk, told him she was on her way to dispose of the bodies.

Well, after hearing that the cop goes to his car and radios for back-up, gets his shotgun and tells Aunt Gertie to get out of the car.  Well there’s little old Aunt Gertie, all sixty pounds of her, standing by the side of the road with her hands in the air and this cop pointing this shotgun at her when about a dozen deputies and troopers shows up with their sirens blaring and all them lights flashing.

Well this head cop, or trooper, or whatever he was goes over to Gertie’s car and looks inside and there, sitting on the front seat, is her license, registration, and proof of insurance.  He takes the keys out of the ignition and opens the trunk to look at them dead bodies and all there is are some cans for the food bank and some clothes for the shelter.  He then goes over to where Aunt Gertie is standing with her hands still in the air and asks her, “Why did this officer tell me you don’t have a license, that you stole this car, murdered the owners and stuck them in the trunk and that you were on the way to dispose of the bodies?”

“I have no idea.” Aunt Gertie replied.  “I bet he told you I was speeding too.”

Ain’t that just like Aunt Gertie?  Well, I guess I’d better be closing.  I’ve got to go over to the hospital and see Roscoe-Dale.  He’s in there with a concussion.  I’ll write you later and tell you what that’s all about.

Your Cousin,
Junior 

OK, I’ll fess up.  I really don’t have a cousin named Junior and I made that all up.  If you enjoyed this letter then let me know and I’ll have Junior write me in future issues.

Dave Hamby
Publicity Chairman