Well, gol danged! I gotta sneak outta Tweedsburg fir a few minutes or'here an' here Iz finds out about it being the Mayor's birthday! Well, Tweezer, HAPPY DANGED BIRTHDAY!!! Sorry fir yellin' but it's quite a way's back to Mayberry from this big ol city...

Shoot, kanny, get a blow torch! We only got a couple hours leff to get all these danged candles lit...

So, Tweezer, me and the Wes Ginny Slide Rule, who by the way say's to say "Happy Birthday" to ya as well, figure that yer just about a year younger than you'll be next year, so kick up some dust, youngin'... While ya' can.

An' fir God's sake, keep an eye out fir the Bluesylady 'cause, well I weren't 'sposed to say nuthin' but.... she told me that since you kept yer danged birthday so secretive that she was gonna give you a good ol' fashion Tweedsburg duct tapin' fir yer birthday. But that ain't the worserist part of it. Rememeber Beachie's pottie chair? Well, when she get done with yer sorry, year-older butt you'd wished it was the potty chair that you was taped to!

Ya' get 'em all lit, hanny?

Good!

Now, Tweezer, try blowin' that inferno (no, not sterno, dangit...) out!

Geeze...

da Boberdzz