Sunday, March 17, 2013

Storytelling Foul

I was telling a Woodie story last night, and forgot one of the best parts, the cliffhanger.

The story was one I heard Woodie tell a couple of times, and it was set at a land auction.  This farm was selling, and one of the main bidders was some hillbilly, seemingly straight out of the hollow, wearing bib overalls with tobacco juice dripping off of his chin.  The auctioneer kept mentioning to the guy that the winning bidder would have to put down a 10% payment at the close of the auction, because he didn't think the guy had a pot to piss in.  The guy would acknowledge that and keep bidding.  Finally, he got the winning bid and told his wife to go out to the car grab the milk can.  So his wife went out to the car and brought back the milk can.  The guy opened it up, and it was empty.  He told his wife that she grabbed the wrong one, so she went back out and got another one.  He opened it up, and pulled out enough cash to buy the farm outright.

When I told this story, I left out the whole part with the wrong milk can, and jumped straight to the cash filled one.  That's why I'm not nearly as good of a storyteller as Woodie.

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