Gizzard of d' Ozarks

(or what if Dorthy had been some redneck from Texas)

Uh... ok-. So It all started when I got a hold of some of my uncle’s homebrew. Me and my buddies was celebratin the latest Earnheart Jr. win well into the night and so that’s how I come to sleep right through the tarnaida siren. I didn't make it to the fraidy hole in time and the whole trailer got sucked up in that twister! -With me and my dog Brisket still in it! We stayed up in the air forever and when I finally come down I figured it was Louisiana (cause these folks just weren't right). They was all singing and carring on and there was this one pretty chicklet there that weren't too bright. She told me that she didn't know the way back to Texas but that I should go see this sheriff guy from Arkansas name of Gizzard. (I figured he was from Arkansas cause they called him Gizzard of d' Ozarks or at least that's what I gathered they said, that Cajun accent can be hard to understand sometimes.) Well then she couldn't give me good directions to get to him neither, just told me to follow the yella road. So me and Brisket high tailed it out of there cause they was all fixing to have a sing along.Tweren’t long before I come upon a fork in the road and this fella that must have been hauling hay all day came over and said he'd walk with us cause he needed to see this Gizzard fella too. Something about some smarts he's been missing. We walked a ways further and then there was a flock of some funky swamp birds chasing a hippie. Well I had left my gun in the trailer but I pegged a few of’em with some rocks and Brisket fetched’em up. They's some weird looking Louisiana swamp birds but they tasted all right. (a little like a gamey chicken but I didn't have any Picante to put on them). Well, come to find out them was some kinda expensive rare birds that belonged to this ol' cueky lady with a skin disorder. And she was right riled up about the whole thing. But this scrapmetal dealer came up and told me that it was ok cause it was Lousiana swamp bird season and I had every right to make my supper of them. So we blew her off and me and the hayhauler and the scrapmetal guy and that weird looking hippie fella all decided to go see this Gizzard together and explain the whole thing to him. Evidently he was some kind of Sheriff or Justice of the Peace or something cause they spoke real highly of him. I didn't mind the company so much but Brisket and me was sure getting tired of their singing. I never knew Cajun music was so terrible.I tell you what, we was almost to the county seat when that old bat with the rare birds starts picking on us again. These big swamp turkeys picked me up by the britches and Brisket by the tail, flew us half way across the county and then dropped us smack dab in the old witches backyard, (must have been homing swamp turkeys) -Anyway that's where she proceeded to fussin' and yellin' and just getting herself all worked up, so I dumped some water on her to cool her off. - This was a mistake. That poor old hag must have had on 60 years of make up and face powder cause when it was all washed off there wasn't a dang thang left but a broom, a hat and some of them giant old lady panties. Huh! Well I figured I was in deep horse pucks then and the stupid fellas I was with didn't help cause they finally caught up to us they commenced to singin' even louder. And telling everybody we saw about what had happened, Now I gathered from the reactions that she was not all that popular of a bitty but just the same I didn't want to spend even one night in a damp Louisiana jail cell. (I've heard stories...nevermind.)I thanked all that was holy when we was finally at Gizzards home town, but there must have been some kinda county fair going on or somp’em cause the carvival was there and there was a bunch of these little people running around everywhere. Which I don't mind, I mean, I ain't prejudice or nuttin (at least they was speakin' English and didn't smell funny like some them towel heads) its just that they wouldn't stop singin' long enough to say howdy much less give us directions to where this local yokel was hanging his hat. Well I finally found a sign and we followed it straight to his office. His secretary then told us that we couldn't see im. He was all busy with county business and stuff, I reckon. Well, while she and my tag-alongs was arguing about it, I just went on in. They ditched that secretary somehow and caught up with me in this Gizzard fella's office. And let me tell you what (again) he had one fancy shmancy office! So he was showing off his big screen TV and he had that dolby surround sound going and smoke and mirrors and the whole 9 yards. Yes siree! But I was just about fed up with all this so I told Brisket to sniff him out and he did (he's a good dawg). And then the pow wow commenced. I was being polite and a good representative of my state and all so I let my compadres go first. (strongly suggesting however that they not bring up the ol hag encounter just in case he was kin or sump’n) Then this Gizzard fella told them something to the effect that the check was in the mail and how they already had what they was looking for and to leave him alone. Well then I tried to tell him the story of how this very minute my trailer was illegally parked in a road on the other side of the county. And how I would appreciate if someone could run me home to get my truck and I'd try to ' haul it out of there seeing as it was blockin traffic and all. But he told me no, that he wanted a look at the sitchuation from his swanky hot air balloon. I figure it was new and he was just showing off but by this time my patience had worn a little thin. Brisket was gettin real antsy about the whole balloon idea anyway. He hadn’t had real good experiences lately with the flying. So I had to pick him up and hold him to get him in the contraption. Then the whole city of swamp rat imbeciles started that darn Cajun singing again. This old codger had the nerve to turn to me and say that I was too heavy and that I would have to leave the dog. Well that was the last straw, and the hayhauling dude started to argue with me about the straw comment but I had had enough -so I punched him. Then the hippie fella smarted off and I whalloped him a good one too. Now this is where things got a little fuzzy. The best I can tell is that the whole town and some little folks (I called’em muchables) jumped into the fight. Evidently I held my own pretty good for a while (after all I am from Texas and this weren't my first scrape). Well I guess they finally got in a lucky punch and knocked me smooth out, cause I don't remember anything at all after that. But I must have caused quiet a ruckus and they wanted me outa there real bad cause they moved my trailer all the way back to Texas and stuck me right back in my bed. I had a helluva headache when I waked up but no real injuries to speak of. I know one dang thang though I'm gonna keep my Texas hyde out of Louisiana -and just to be safe I'm gonna lay off my uncle's brew for a while too.