Helps if you do this one with w drawl:

THE SPOTTED ASS
Stephanie Davis

She was out, she explained, from Manhattan,
Had long wanted to visit the West.
"Well, ma'am, mighty glad you did make it,"
He said, pulling his Skoal from his vest.

They'd both chanced to sit at Gert's counter,
This chic, couth, and cultured young lass
And the old packer, Roy, who said, "I'm from Dubois.
I'm here to show my spotted ass!"

She patted her lips with her napkin.
No words came to mind apropos,
So she sniffed and she coughed, held her eyebrows aloft,
And ventured a tentative "Oh?"

"Well, I don't mean to sound like I'm braggin',"
He said as he pinched off a chew,
"But last year mine won Confirmation
And placed in Agility, too!

"'Course it takes time and trainin'," he added,
"That well-muscled look don't come free.
But for balance and workin' in tandem,
Mine's the pair, ma'am, that you oughta see."

"Really!" she managed to sputter
While smoothing her hair into place.
Her manicured nails drummed her Gucci—
If only she'd thought to pack Mace!

But just then, Gert came by with coffee
And said, "I'll be right with ya, hon."
And the New Yorker part of her rallied—
This little exchange was not done.

She inhaled and straightened her shoulders.
A street-hardened gleam filled her eyes,
Then forcing a smile, she leaned toward him
And said in a voice world-wise:

"We've clubs in New York for such...hobbies.
I went once with my friend, Elaine.
All sizes and shapes pranced before us
In black leather harness and chain.

"We ogled and cheered on our favorites,*
Mine being two twins, Chip and Dale.
Not many were what you'd call spotted.
In fact, most were really quite—pale."

"Albinos!" he gasped. "Weren't you lucky!
Why, I've only seen one in my life,
A cute little thing that could bray on command—
Belonged to the minister's wife!

"She was proud of it, too, let me tell ya;
And much as her husband allowed,
She showed it at fairs and conventions
And afterward posed for the crowd!"

"Uncanny!" she answered. "I just read
A story in Cosmo on this.
It was called 'The Bare Facts: An Intimate Look
At Today's Exhibitionist.'

"It interviewed novice and expert,
Showed scenes from the old Moulin Rouge,
Quoted a noted consultant
Who said they can grow to be huge!"

"Oh, they're popular all right," he nodded.
"I hear Oprah's got herself a pair,
And last year out on the campaign trail,
Our governor kissed his fair share!"

"I must say," she replied, "it's intriguing,
This subculture you belong to.
And I hate to admit, but those spots upon yours are, well,
Something I'd quite like to view!"

"Ma'am, I'd be honored," he answered.
"My trailer's parked just outside.
What say you and me postpone breakfast
And I show you one well-spotted hide?"

"Why not?" she said, after a short pause.
"There can't be much harm in one glance.
This could be one exciting vacation,
And to think poor Elaine went to France!"

And, so out the café they headed,
And though no one witnessed a thing,
Roy left town that day with a shiner
And his prize-winning ass—in a sling!

"Tourists!" he said to his packer friend Ted.
"That's one bunch it's best to let be.
But should you get tangled with one, for gosh sakes,
Don't breathe a word 'bout your stud fee!

"Think of 'em as a coiled rattler—
Don't be fooled by their manners and class.
And when one 'em starts in to swingin' her purse,
Duck first and then cover yer ass!"

[*or "We threw dollar bills at our favorites--"]