This is out and out extortion, the old badger game.

Three keys to perdition?

Fine clothes, fancy car, and 50 cents a week.

And it's you that'll reap the harvest when the seeds of temptation is trampled on by the little foxes.

Because as the rod is spared, so is the twig bent.

And then the densest has got to pay for casting the first stone.

I don't know what she said, but she sure could stir up a camp meeting with us.

Boy, driving that thing without a steering wheel sure keeps the fellow hustling.

I'm starting to run over that little old gal.

What little old gal?

That one coming up the driveway yonder.

Who is she?

I don't know.

Howdy.

I reckon y'all don't remember me, do you?

Well, bless my soul.

Jethro, you recollect Fetty girl?

I sure do.

I used to chuck rocks at them.

I told you this would happen if you let him run wild.