I was drivin' down one of them back-of-beyond West Virginia roads a few years back when the meanest, nastiest lookin' guy I've ever seen jumped in front of my car. I stopped and he got in.

He pulled out a HUGE pistol and pointed it at me and at that the same time pushed jug into my hands and said, "Here. Have a drink."

Well, I pulled out the corn cob that was stopping up the jug and every fly for a hundred yards around fell dead from the sky. Six hogs ran away holding their noses. A buzzard on a gutpile threw up. I took a huge drink.

The sky turned purple and green, the Earth reeled, and someone took a flamethrower to my head, throat, and guts. After about fifteen minutes I could breath again.

The fella in the seat next to me reversed his pistol and handed to me. "Here," he said, "now you make me take a drink."



I have several bottles of poteen, only I bought it legally the last time I was in Ireland. Sigh.