>>513193209
Traditions are sacred down here in ‘ol Dixie Land. Matter a fact, a family tradition been passed down to my brother Jacob an I from our daddy, his daddy, and even his daddy ‘fo him. Some say traditions are old fashioned an outdated; don’t you go payin’ them niggroes an Yankee folk no mind, though, ya hear? My daddy done rastled up a most peculiar of niggroes. Now this niggro was the downright meanest sumbitch I’d ever seen. Hoopin’ an a hollerin’ the way dem darkies do. Well, one fine Sunday mornin’ ‘fo church, Nigga Jim, see that’s what we called him on account a we couldn’t pronounce his jungle name an all, Nigga Jim was a shoutin’ at my mama. He was a sayin all sorts a undignified thangs, sayin’ how if he wasn’t in chains, he’d be givin’ her the ‘ol Alabama Black Snake. Heh, well, let’s just say that didn’t sit too well with my daddy and his daddy. So, they done scooped him up an took him to the Breakin’ Barn. My daddy hogtied that black sumbitch, stripped him bare as my granddaddy’s head. He knelt down to me, and said, “Chuck, we can’t be havin’ this uppity niggro givin’ other darkies no bright ideas.”So, I unbuckled my Sunday Blues an dropped ‘em down to my ankles. ‘Ol Nigga Jim, now he was a wailin’ and a shoutin’ but I didn’t pay him no mind. Boy I tell you ‘hwut, that darkie bucked and bucked and bucked till he couldn’t buck no ‘mo. As for me, heh, well, I was as snug as a junebug in a rug. When I was a finished with ‘ol Jim, he was a quiverin’ an a whimperin’ like a scared dog with his tail ‘tween his legs, but he wasn’t Bein’ undignified no ‘mo. My brother and I learned a valuable lesson that day. A few years later, we opened our own hotel an fixed it up real nice. Need to rest your tired eyes? Come on in to Jake ‘n Chuck’s Break ‘n Bucks and grab y’self somethin’ cool to drink. And remember, we have quality Bucks...at a fair price.
