>10:00 pm.  Off the road.  I am somewhere...dark.  I think its in Arkansas,
>but can't understand the language.  People keep saying, "Yalcumbaknaw."
>Must be a code.  Motel guy was arguing with his wife, saying "Stop or I
>will divorce you, and you can go back to being my sister."
 
Well, dadgum it, Bob.  I *told* you to let me know when you were coming
through.  I could have had Goober write you a passport and give you a
translating dictionary, but nooooooooo.  You had to try it on your own.
Small wonder Junior and Bubba didn't take a shot at you!  (Probably would
have if they hadn't been drunk).
 
>11:00 pm.  Looked in the mirror and realized how dumb I was to take this
>journey.  Went outside for a pepsi and saw a woman with really tall hair.
>The bangs stood straight up about 5 inches.  She was with the world's
>strangest looking man, with spider webs tatooed on his nose.  He winked at
>me.  I realized aliens have landed and taken over the entire state of
>Arkansas.
 
Naw, those weren't aliens -- that was the governor and his wife.  We ran all
the aliens up into Missouri a long time ago.  We had to -- they developed a
taste for chitluns and our food supply was running low.  I understand most
of 'em grew long hair and entered graduate school up there.
 
Now the next time you decide to journey through here, maybe you'll let me
know.  You'll be granted safe harbor and safe passage.  I'll even lock the
governor and his sister (excuse me, wife) in the shed so they won't scare
you again.
 
Happy trails!  :-)
 
C.B. and Maximilian
Little Rock
[Posted in FML issue 1936]