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By coujeaux Date: 2003 Nov 24 Comment on this Work [[2003.11.24.02.27.1328]] |
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Got his hands on both knees, exasperated; managed to catch his breath but nothing more, Hot pursuit he been in make Buford T. Justice go upside ol' Junior's head wit' a two-by-four. Out o' the corner o' 'is eye he see a target, hearin' her laughin' and wigglin' wit' a fitful glee, Jumpin' around that pier as if on pogo sticks; just like the Gingerbread Man, can't catch me. He steadyin' and readyin', keep it on the lowdown, play it off; quick he twist, then the lunge, No sooner were his hands where it weren't his momentum sent him deep wit' mighty plunge. Climbin' back to dry land, you hear him cursin' everything ain't holy; why he got to chase it? Ain't like she the only catfish in the great big pond, but legend say nothin' else can replace it. Now he sure ain't wet behind the ears but he heard stories how twenty years o' schemes fail, Countless sportsmen from the big city tried anything short of here, kitty, kitty, kitty to prevail. But a country boy got no gripe when he's bagged wildest game this side o' snipe; what to do? An' a thought crossed his mind that his plan had to be refined usin' bait that was entirely new. So our fisherman gets himself books from a library on aquatic species an' what make 'em tick, You never saw a simple rube educate himself so quickly then manage to find an effective trick. Head back on down to the water a-smilin' wider than a horizon; he got somethin' up his sleeve, Or rather, in a box; he throw contents in the drink, out jump whiskers faster'n he could believe. Little later on, his tummy was satisfied, an' you heard a purr not far behind him; dinner for two, Wanna get yo' hands on fine feminine feline, make 'em choose 'tween hungry pirahnas and you. |