May Ellen was on her way to the grocery store when she spotted her cousin Farley standing in a ditch, looking pitiful. Even though she knew better, she stopped and hollered at him. He raised a gritty hand and waved at her. “Can I get a ride to the store? I really need a beer!” he asked. Reluctantly, she nodded her head.
He managed to get halfway up out of the ditch before falling down and sliding back in. Even though May Ellen was already regretting her decision to stop, she felt sorry for him and went to help. “Jeez, Farley - you smell like a hog farm!” She grimaced as she held out her hand to steady him.
“Do not!” he insisted.
“Ain’t nothing wrong with my smelling equipment,” she replied.
“Well, you got plenty of it!” Farley grinned.
“Do you want a ride or not?” May Ellen fumed.
They were such a sight pushing and stumbling, that Mr. Watts, who was driving by, pulled over in his rusty old jeep to investigate. “What in the world are yu’all doing down there?” he asked as he walked over.
“I would sure appreciate some help getting my sorry aggravation of a cousin up out of this here ditch.” May Ellen snarled. So Mr. Watts grabbed one arm while May Ellen grabbed the other one.
Now Farley was not very heavy, but he kept trying to escape while exclaiming that he didn’t need any derned help getting out of the ditch. Mr. Watts was getting frustrated, and May Ellen was getting mad.
“If you don’t stop that flopping and flapping around I am gonna leave you right here in this ditch!” she exploded. Farley looked at her and saw that her face was getting red and she had begun to work those jaw muscles back and forth. This was a bad sign.
He decided it was a lot safer to cooperate, even though he was about as stubborn as a young mule. Plus, he didn’t have any money for beer and was hoping May Ellen would spot him a little. “This would be a lot easier iffen you smelled better!” exclaimed Mr. Watts, after he got a good whiff.
“He ain’t sitting in the seat with me. Farley’s gonna ride in the back of my truck. I can always hose that down!” May Ellen snorted.
“Good idea!” agreed Mr. Watts.
They finally got him out of the ditch and loaded into the back of the truck. While he settled in, Mr. Watts and May Ellen walked around to the cab and started whispering. “What are you folks gonna do with Farley? If he gets any worse yu’all won’t be able to handle him,” questioned Mr. Watts.
“Pen him up with the hunting dogs, I guess,” scowled May Ellen.
“Now you know you don’t mean that,” admonished Mr. Watts.
Meanwhile, as they were discussing Farley, he managed to climb out of the truck bed and was headed back into the ditch. Luckily, Mr. Watts spotted him before he started down the slope. “What in the heck are you doing?” yelled May Ellen as she ran to head him off.
“Leave me alone! That’s my beer money down there!” Farley insisted.
“What are you talking about?”asked May Ellen.
“I found thirty five cents in this here ditch. And I think there might be some more! I ain’t even got enough on me for a six-pack right now.” Farley explained tearfully.
“Oh for Pete’s sake - you are not going back down into that muddy ole ditch. I’ll give you five dollars and save you the trouble.” May Ellen put in.
That got Farley moving. He fairly lept into the back of the truck and sat there with a five dollar bill in his hand and a sly grin on his face. May Ellen just glared.
“That dog pen sounds better and better all the time!” chuckled Mr. Watts, as he walked back to the jeep.
