Kendall, when you say "class" do you mean "not bawdy" or are you looking for the sort of regional stories where a FOOF of a local farmer can't get the bull to go into the truck. He ties the bull to the hay hoist above the barn loft and hitches the draft horse to the other end. Works fine till the bull's feet leave the ground and then the bull starts bellowing. This makes the draft horse bolt, and the bull shoots up to the roof, rings the pulley housing like a bell, it rips off the roof and on the rapid journey down to hamburgerdom, flattens the truck the farmer was trying to put him in.
That kind of story? Or something that plays on local habits and accents; conditions? Like the guy who's died and he's waiting in line for his fate to be determined. He notices that while St Pete is waiving his choices thru, the Devil is sorting his -- some go directly down into the flames and some go in a pile on the side. Having nothing but time, the guy asks Satan what's with the separate pile. "Oh, they're Oregonians. They're too wet to burn," the Devil replies.
Blessings,
Barbara