Well, I weren't gonna tell this true story but, what the hey???

I think it was back 'round '84 'er '82 and my Couzin Rufus asked me to take him to Lake Assatique outside Springfield, Virgina fir a little fishin'... Ya' see, as a youngin' I used to fish that lake and I knew where the big bass were and so we loaded up Rufus's wife, the ever lovely Retha Mae's AMC Concord station wagon and off we were to Lake Assatinque....

Well, Lake Assatique is prolly arounda thousand acres so there's lotta places to fish and so we got there, rented a flat bottomed boat with a 12 hp Evinrude and off we went toward my honey hole...

Now Rufus??? He ain't much a fisherman but he got a bigass tackle box with every lore that has ever been made in it so he's ready... Me??? I got a bag lunch of a pomento cheeze sammich and a bag of tater chips, also in a bag with one of them yellow twisty ties on it to hold it closed...

So I motor us to my honeyhole and Rufus gets rigs up a Mister Twister with a spinner and throws it out... Nuthin'... Me??? I jjst sit back and have the pomento cheeze sammixh and them chips...

Now Rufe been castin' a bout 50 times while I was havin' that ymmy sammich and then he says, "Ain't no fish eher, Boberdz"... Now that make me mad fir a minute and then I figure it's time to show the bpoy how a real fisherman goes about his business so...

...I takes that yellow twisty tie and tie it on a #12 hook with just enough shot to cast it and cast it right where Rufe had been castin' his Mr. Twister with the spinner and before that twisty tie even hit the water I big ol' 4 pound bass jumps outta the water and...

...bango... That one in the boat...

So Rufe say, "Hey, you got another of them yellow twisty ties???" and I say's "Yeah" and give hi the other one that was holding the chips bag closed and he sets it on another #12 hook with just 'nuff shot to cast it and...

...bango, part 2... He's got another bigass bass in the boat...

Well, I told ya'll that this was a honeyhole but I'd forgotten just how much honey was in that hole as we pulled in one big bass after another until the bottom of the boat was completely filled with fish and the weight of me and Rufe and the fish had that boat sittin' mnightly low so I say's to Rufe, "Man, we gotta nuff fish here fir all next winter and some so lets head home"...

Well, bless Reher Mae fir puttin' up with Cuz but as full as that boat was ol' Rufe siad, "Just one more, Boberdz" and so he cast out and just as the last hundred or so casts a bigass bass jumped outta the water and hit that rather worn out yellow twisty tie but before that fish could so much as think, "What did I do that for" there was a big commotion in the water as the biggest and nastiest Mud Tom I'd ever laid an eye on come outta that water and swallowed that 5 pound bass whole and now it and Tom were attached to Cuz's line???

Hmmmmmmmm???

Well, they say that calm come just before the storm and I reckon that is true 'cause the Tom just went under water and all seemed real calm... No pullin'... NO jerkin'... No nuthin'... I mean, all the ripples even went away and the lake was smooth as glass until...

...it weren't smooth as glass no more and that Tom come outta that water like a possessed demon and next thing ya' know poor ol' Rufe has his feet against the sides of the boat trying to hold on as that Tom cranked up the turbo and next thing ya' know that Tom is pulling the boat backwards toward the marina and gaining speed and poor ol' Rufe is like in trance and won't let go of his pole...

Well, folks, I am here to say that every second that boat was going twice as fast as the second before and next thing ya' know that Tom was pullin' us so fast that the keel of that flatbottom boat was like a dam and shootin' up a water spout so high that it was later shown on the local weather station and we are now doing about 50 miles an hour with one rather pissed off MudTom doin' the best it could to make our day of fishin' a complete and total nightmare...

I'm lookin' at the marina and it was coming up real fast and I'm yellin' to Rufus, "Let it go!!!" but he still in that trance, his cowboy boots planted firmly on the transom, and he ain't gonna let go...

Now, peoples, there are times in a man's life where he wished that he could just pick his relatives and I'm here to say that that is the4 only thought that entered my mind as that Tom hit the shore line with so much speed and force that it, with Rufis and boat still in tow, that it carried us thru the marina, thru the parking lot, accross the road and about 400 feet deep into a cornfield before we all came to a stop!!!

I mean, I'm lookin' around and all I can see is bass and corn... I thought I'd dreamed all this so I gave myself "the pice" just hopin' that I had but to no avail... So there we were in the middle of this corn field copletey covered in bass and corn and I reckon in some parts of the South that would be a good thing, I donno... Guess I ain't that Southern....

Took about two hours to round up our catch outta that corn field and pack 'um in the coolers and to get the boat pulled back to the marina... All the while that Tom was out there in that corn field justa snortin' an' carryiin' on...

So we settled up with the marine for the damage to the boat and were on our way back home when Rufus looks over at me and asks, "Didja put a notch on the top rail of that boat where caught all them fish?"

"Huh, Rufe???"

"Well, listen, Boberdz... If ya didn't put a notch in the boat then if I come back here alone how am I gonna find that honeyhole of yours???"

Hmmmmmmmm???

Notch 'er no notch, legend has it that folks around Lake Assitique swear that when the night is still that they hear a snortin' and carryin' on from 'round that corn field... I doono... What I do know is that I ain't gonna walk back there lookin' for no nasty, ugly and rather pissed off Mud Tom...

No, I'll take a pass on that one...

And this has been a true fishing story...

Bobert