Copyright© Russell Hoisington 2005

This here tale is an eeerotic fantasy of the humorous variety which I done writ in the vernackulary style of th' area where it all took place. So, if'n you don't speak Redneck, y'all are gonna be lost, 'n' y'all got my deepest sympathies fer bein' so poorly educated.

The characters, cept'n for th' famous eeerotic writer cmsix 'n' the briefly mentioned eeerotic writer Naive, 'n' the situation are purely th' product of my overactive imagination. Any similarities y'all might find between this here tale and any actual people y'all might know, or between this here story and any actual events that y'all should be ashamed of, are purely coincidental.

This story is copyright 2005 by Russell Hoisington. You may post it freely to non-commercial (free) sites, or in the "free" area of commercial sites as long as you do not remove the author information or make any changes to this story. This does not mean that it is in the public domain, nor does it mean that I give permission for you to use it in spam advertising. I reserve the right to determine what is "spam advertising" by my definition, not yours or anyone else's.

Thank you for your consideration.

Now, when most strangers hear ole cmsix say he's from Atlanta, Texas, they immediately think two things about him: one, he's naive, 'n' two he's dumber'n a ten-penny nail fer thinkin' Atlanta's anyplace but in Georgia. Th' real Naive quickly sets 'em straight on that there first point, but ole cmsix, he don't bother correctin' 'em on that second one. Why not? Well, that's cause one, he's slicker'n thirty-weight, 'n' two, he's lazier'n a blue-tick hound at mid-day in August. Them what knows him real good kin tell you which'n's th' main reason. Or, y'all kin jest read th' followin' 'n' make up yer own mind.

Sev'ral months ago ole cmsix done wandered into Jim Bob's Horny Toad Saloon 'n' Bait Shop 'n' wuz sittin' at his usual table, eatin' peanuts 'n' swappin' some o' his world-famous stories fer some Lone Star longnecks. All of a sudden th' door opens 'n' here come this here fancy, long-legged redhead what looked like she wuz a smugglin' cantaloupes in her tube top. She wandered over 'n' stopped alongside cmsix, givin' him th' once over like she wuz a gonna spank him. If'n her miniskirt had been a half-inch shorter or her heels had been a half-inch longer, he coulda told you whether she wuz a real red-head 'n' probly got hisself a spankin'. She bent over so that he could watch them melons a bouncin' around in that there top 'n' put one hand on each o' his heads, givin' th' little'n a squeeze. She smiled real big 'n' said, "Y'all gimme twenty dollars, 'n' I'll do a lap dance."

Well, that sure 'nuff got ole cmsix's attention. He went 'n' borrowed a dollar each from th' twenty guys what wuz listenin' to him 'n' give it to th' fancy woman. That smile o' her'n got bigger'n his tallywhacker as she bent over agin, pulled th' top o' that tube top open, 'n' tucked th' money alongside some more a hidin' 'tween them cantaloupes. Then damned if she didn't turn, dance one lap around th' room, 'n' disappear out th' door. Don'tcha know everbody done went 'n' laughed like they wuz addled at th' look on cmsix's face 'n' allowed as to how that had t'be th' darndest thing they'd seen in a month o' Sundays. Then they went back to list'nin' to cmsix's tales, pausin' him ever few minutes so one of 'em could slap Cowpie Jenkins up alongside th' head when he'd git t' gigglin' like he wuz a newly de-virginized schoolgirl.

A few days later ole cmsix wuz agin swappin' tales fer tall ones 'n' here she come again, makin' th' same offer as before. Ole Cooter Scoggins allowed as to how th' look on cmsix's face th' last time made it worth a dollar to him. Th' rest couldn't find no fault in Cooter's logic. Thirty seconds later th' fancy woman wuz a dancin' another lap around th' room 'n' disappearin' out th' door, 'n' everbody wuz a howlin' at th' look on cmsix's face.