From: pierce@dtm-corp.com (pierce)
To: frank@CS.Cornell.EDU
Subject: story
Date: Wed, 12 Feb 97 09:07:36 -0600



                          MAYBERRY BFD

Chapter 1: The Arrival (or Coming Early)

"Now, you sure you don't want to talk about it?  You barely spoke a 
word the whole way.  A body keeps something like that bottled up long
enough, well it's just bound to get out some way."  Andy (for no one
who knew him could call him Sheriff Taylor) figured he'd give his 
deputy an opening.

"Nope!  That's it!  I said it already.  Tick a lock!  The subject is
CLOSED!" Barney said, eyes bulging out.

"All right.  If that's what you want."

"Yes."

"I wouldn't push a body that doesn't want to say anything.  Especially
my own deputy."

"Good."

With a precision that had been acquired from years of research, Andy 
waited just long enough for Barney to actually believe he'd drop the 
subject, before adding, "It's just I wouldn't want you to feel you 
couldn't talk about it."

"CLOSED!!!  CLOSED CLOSED CLOSED!!!!  THE SUBJECT IS CLOSED!!!" Barney
screeched from the passenger seat.  Andy noted that he managed to get no
less than 4 veins to bulge out from Barney's temples.  Three was the average
for a good day.

"Paw?" came a slightly nasal voice from the back seat, "is Barney trying to 
listen for his heart?" asked Opie with his index finger firmly planted to
the knuckle up his nose.  He never would learn of the tie between nose 
picking and premature baldness.

"Naw...  He's just checking for his bullet, and missing it, on account of
the fact that I had to take it away from him.  Of course, if you were older,
you might think he was doing something altogether different."

Again, the masterful pause, waiting for the last statement to slowly make
it's way through Barney's brain, until his jaw dropped open wider than a 
large-mouth bass, eyes bulging further out and his head slowly turn in
disbelief towards Andy.  At which point, Andy quietly added, "Which he isn't."
Someone disarmed and confused (had he just been insulted or not?), he 
turned back and stared out the window again, forgetting how, absentmindedly,
his fingers continuously searched for the missing bullet in his shirt pocket.

"Well, I do believe that's the sign we've been looking for," said Andy and
put his arm out the window to signal a turn.

Opie looked out the back window in time to see the sign his dad was
talking about, but he missed it.  Andy had already turned left onto a
dirt road and kept going.  A few minutes later Andy stopped the car,
and had to smile when he saw the look on Barney's face.  You would
have thought Barney had seen a ghost, except that he wasn't shaking
uncontrollably.  Yet.

Andy stepped out.

"Barney, you stay here with Opie.  I'm just not too sure about this."

"BUT ANJ!"

"Now Barn, just sit tight!"

Andy tossed a look at Barney that stopped him from coming along,
although he was already out of the squad car.

"What's going on. Paw?"

"Nothing much Opie, someone just had a little accident, that's all."

"Looks like a 3027 slash J Anj." Barney was quite sure he had the
citation right, but he was still nervous.  He was almost sweating
already.

Accident indeed.  The Darling's old truck had definitely seen better
days.  It had plowed through the woods near the road, taken out 2
maple saplings and finally skidded to a stop near a field of
blackeyed peas.

In the field, Andy saw the whole Darling clan standing around
something, and all of them were in a stupor.  Andy was glad to see
this, because that meant they were all OK.  Going by the looks on
their faces, caution was called for, so Andy hollered to them before
he walked over.  Halfway there, Andy could already smell the moonshine
wafting across the field.  When Andy arrived at the middle of the
field, he saw what they were looking at.  Even Andy was a little
shocked at what he saw. This was no ordinary case of drunk driving.
Oh no, not at all.  If it was, there was something special about the
batch of moonshine involved.  Andy couldn't quite understand what he
saw, but it would all make sense later.

" ... Annnn deeeeee! " 

Great, thought Andy.  Barney had stayed put an even shorter time than
usual. Andy turned to see Barney trampling through the field, his
bony legs wobbling and churning as he stomped right through the peas. 

"Barn!  Where's Opie!?!"

"Opie?"  Barney replied, as if he had never heard the name before.

"Yes, Opie."  Andy could already see it coming.

"Opie?"  If Barney could change the subject he would, but in his
current state, his vocabulary consisted of a single word.

"Barn?"  

"Opie?"  His mind seemed to be stuck in that grove.

"Barney!"  Andy had had about enough of that game.  Barney knew 
this tact wouldn't work much longer, and he'd rather not repeat 
that whole nasty episode when Andy caught him with that cat.

"Oh.  Opie," he began, as if he know finally understood to whom Any
was referring.  "Well, he just sort of, well...  I mean, Anj, you can't
keep your hands over that boy's eyes his whole life.  You've got to --"

Andy cut him off at that point.  No sense dragging it out longer 
than it has to be.  "He got out," he stated.

"Well...yeah." Barney admitted.  As an afterthought he added bitterly, 
half to himself, "I could have stopped him if I had my bullet."

"So is that why you came running here screaming your fool head off?"

"No.  It's just that... well, I saw... I mean when I was in the car
I...  I mean, you might think I'm crazy but I could swear that I 
saw..." and Barney realized that they WOULD think he was crazy, and
there's no way he could convince them here and now.  Backpedaling,
he said,"...that is, to say, yeah, that's what I wanted to tell you."

"Raising boys can be more than a handful for a man to handle."  The
voice of Mr. Darling, sounding like it had the wisdom of the mountains
itself, cut in and added, "I know mine had a bit of Cain in them,
ain't that right, boys?"  The boys responded in much the same way as a
cadaver at a necrophilia convention, which is to say none, despite
everyone's best efforts.

"Which brings me to my point, Mr. Darling," began Andy.  He actually DID
have someplace better to be, and figured it was time to get to the point.
He asked, "What ARE you all doing here?"

"Any good wedding, needs a good band."  

"A BAND?!?"  Barney chimed in.  Andy could only hoped that all the Darlings
didn't grab for their shotguns at the same time, though the thought did linger
for a moment in his mind.  It was dispatched as Barney's shrill voice
continued, "A band of WHAT?  Anj you can SEE he's got a jug of moonshine!"

"Son, that there is my instrument!  I play the jug."  Mr. Darling held his
big old jug with "XXX" written on it, about two inches from Barney's face
with his left hand.  If Barney could have seen anything beyond the jug, he 
might have noticed Mr. Darling's right hand on his shotgun.

Andy didn't have the time nor interest in spending the next few hours pulling
buckshot out of Barney's hindquarters (no telling WHAT he might find)
so it was time to defuse the situation, before Barney made it worse.

"Now, that IS true.  Why, I can remember playing the guitar with Mr.
Darling and his boys.  They was making the prettiest sounds you can
imagine.  Now, Mr. Darling, I imagine that before you can play that old
jug there, you have to make sure it ain't got nothing left in it.  And
these days, it's getting so a body just can't even pour out a jug, without
someone telling him where to go, how to pour it out and where he can and
cain't pour it.  You just figured you'd get rid if it, the easiest way.  
Now ain't that right?"

"Well, Sherrif Taylor, I think me and the boys'd agree with you."  The
boys stared out vacantly, one can only assume, in agreement.

Andy decided to continue his way to the point.  "Now if my deputy is happy, 
I'll ask my question," he begins.  "What in the world are you doing out 
in this here field?  If you're going to the same wedding that I think 
you're going to, you must've known they moved quite some time back."

With a sigh and a swig from his instrument, Mr. Darling responded, "I know
NOW that they's moved.  Don't do much good at this point though.  You
see, Sherrif Taylor, living in the wood, well it's a loney life.  You
just plain don't git much news of the happenings of all the folk here.
A very loney life.  Why, along about the month of February, it gets
so bad, that if it weren't for the fact that a body can find--"

"Well," Andy strategically interrupted.  He had had a few run-ins with the 
Darlings a few years back in the fall, and quite frankly didn't have any
interest in finding out what their habits or tastes tend towards after
being cooped up for three months.  He continued, "it just so happens, that 
I was heading up that way, to check on a few things and give my best to 
the family.  Now, while your truck has seen better days, I imagine that 
it'll still run..."

"Like the day I got it.  After all, I was extra special careful when
I parked it over yonder," and he pointed towards the general vicinity of 
what most would consider the wreckage of his vehicle.

"Well, then you can follow me to their new place," Andy offered helpfully.
Pointing towards what they were all standing around, he added, "You gonna 
need a hand putting that...well, that in your truck?"

"My boys can manage, though I'd never turn down the offer of a strong
back and broad shoulders."

"Good," he said with a smile and a nod of his head, "Then my deputy will 
be glad to give you a hand."  Turning to Barney, he said casually, "Why 
don't you go over there and give them a hand, Barney.  I suppose I had
best dig up that boy of mine afore he gets his good clothes dirty...er."

And before the realization of the task for which he had just been 
volunteered began to sink in, Andy was already on his way back to the car,
leaving Barney surrounded by the Darling clan.  Andy knew he didn't even
need to see Barney's face, as he'd be hearing the screams all the way back to
the car.

Andy found Opie back in the woods near the car.  Finding him was easy,
since the laughs and giggles were so loud.  "Now Ope, I've been
meaning to have that little talk with you for some time, but now ain't
such a good time, since Barney will be back soon."  Andy didn't want
to see Barney get upset again, since Thelma Lou couldn't possibly have
gotten pregnant from the methods that Barney had hinted at.  The
rumors going around town were even more entertaining, and probably
closer to the truth.

"Paw. Why does corn silk make a good tampon?"  Andy expected more
pointed questions than that, since Andy had just found Opie in the
woods with Sally Ann Richards and Buck Snoodle.  They didn't call him
Buck for nothing.

"Later Ope.  Zip up your pants boy." Zzzt..OW!
Andy would be glad when Opie remembered to tuck before he zipped. Andy
had taken Opie into Doc Stevens for this so many times, Doc was getting a
little suspicious.

Andy saw Barney coming toward the car, pale and shaken after helping
the Darlings load up the truck.  From the look on Barn's face, Andy
surmised that Barn had gotten a peek in the open end of the burlap
sack he had helped them carry.  Andy still couldn't quite figure out
how roofing nails and baling wire had been so expertly used as
surgical items.  Andy was actually happy he had seen no more than a
quick flash of its contents.  From what little Andy had seen, he
didn't want to know any more about its contents.

Barney stayed outside the car a moment, wiping the excess, uh, stuff
off of his sleeves and pants legs.  Luckily, it was too viscous to
actually sink into his clothes.

Andy, Barn and Opie headed off on what promised to be a long and
hopefully eventful car trip.  Since it wasn't exactly a busincess
trip, Andy figured Opie could come along. Aunt Bea was at home making
more of those awful pickles she was fond of.  No one had the heart to
tell her they were bad, and she was just too embarassed to tell anyone
just WHY they tasted to bad.  Let's just say that she REALLY enjoyed
making those pickles, and the anchovy aftertaste was something she
just couldn't help.


Chapter 2: Bride's Bridle

"Jeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeed!"  Like fingernails scratching a blackboard
hard enough to cause sparks, the high-pitched voice cut through the quiet,
peaceful morning.  The call repeated itself, as Granny was frantically
running down the stairs.  Jed realized that the frantic tone of Granny's
voice could only mean one thing: she was not dead.  For that would be
the ONLY time when she wasn't screaming about SOMETHING.

"Jeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeed!!!" Granny screamed, and spying her son, ran into
the kitchen, "Jethro just came in my mouth!"

Jed put down the block of wood he had been whittling.  "Now Granny," he
began, "the boy's still young and still don't know his own strength.  I'd
think you'd know he's about due when you see them there eyeballs of his
rolling backwards.  It ain't like the boy was looking for his brain, as
that'd be the last place to look."

"Of COURSE I know that!" snapped Granny.  "I've been giving relief to men
since before you was born!"

"Well, I'd hope so," added Jed.  "Now why don't you clean yourself off,
and I'll help you look for your glasses.  I expect they got blown clean
off of your head again."
 
"Now you tell that boy of yours, I expect that not to happen again!  With
the wedding fast coming up, we cain't have something like that happen again.
You know 'Stonewall' Jackson?"  She paused for the inevitable nod, "Well,
I told HIM, if he ever cut loose early again, I'd make sure his nickname
would be 'Cornhole' Jackson.  You best keep that boy of yours in line."  
And with that, she stormed off to wash her hair in the cement pond.

Jed knew the city folks had different ways of dealing with things.  And
in order to avoid any possible faux pas (though he'd never call it that),
he figured it best to check with his closest big-city friends, who always
knew the sensible approach.

-------

"That's it!  Never again!" Mr. Drysdale said to his secretary, Miss Hathaway,
as he threw the remains of a giant diaper and baby bonnet in the trash.
"Next time, YOU will be the escaped convict with the diaper fetish and I
will be the penitent, transsexual nun.  I need another bottle of mouth wash!"

"Now Mr. Drysdale," Miss Hathaway began, in the way someone admonishes a
child in kindergarten, "I can fully assure you that the 'business end' of
a crucifix can be quite..."

"And I can assure YOU," Drysdale interrupted, "that the 'non-business-end'
is not much more confortable.  Splinters.  Why the hell were there splinters?
Did you get a hold of the doctor?"

"While there were no specialists, per se, for removing such a thing, as
well as the sacred splinters it might leave, er, behind, the two most
likely people do not make house or rather office calls."

Mr. Drysdale was devoted to his work, which was keeping his customers' money
in his bank, which required keeping his customers happy.  When asked by his
colleagues at various functions how he was about to successfully maintain 
his 95% customer renewal and satisfaction rating, the words "Don't ask" 
were usually sufficient to end that conversation.

The phone rang and Hathaway answered it.  "Oh helLO Mr. Clampett," she said.
Drysdale's face fell when he heard the name and began violently gesturing
to Hathaway that he would NOT speak on the phone.  "Mr. Drysdale?  Oh,
well, he can't come to the phone right now.  What?  Why yes, as a matter of
fact we WERE just about to step out so we could go to the hos-, er run an
errand or two, so we would LOVE to stop by."  She covered the receiver with
her hand and said to Drysdale, "It's on the way, anyway," and continued
on the phone, "yes, well we'll just poop, er pop over there shortly,
all right?  Yes, thank you.  Good bye."
 
Looking at Drysdale, she said, "Hmmm, I suppose we'll need to put you
in something loose if you're going to go out.  Here, put on this muumuu."

-------

Andy had to change a flat tire outside of Las Vegas in a little town
called Pahrump.  While Andy changed the tire, he sent Barney ahead
with the Darlings to call back to Mayberry and make sure Goober hadn't
set anything on fire.  Opie was asleep in the back of the squad car.
Just as Andy closed the trunk...

"AAAAANNDIEEEEEE!"

A breathless Barney came to a stop after running from what seemed like
miles away. 
"ANJ, it's the Darlings, they're caught -"

Barney sucked in a few breaths of hot, dry air.

"caught, there's a house a mile or so up, and they're engaged in a
384, subsections A through D, and even a G!  A G ANJ! A 384 G!!!"

Andy was already behind the wheel at this point.  Andy would attribute
the flat tire to bad luck any day, but his luck turned AWFUL when he
realized it had happened in the ONE place in the good old US of A
where prostitution was legal.

With the Darlings.  

He refused to believe a 384 G was in full swing, Then again you do
find camels in the desert, and last Andy had heard, Old Uncle Spam was
on the loose in Nevada somewhere.  Andy'd never be able to forget the
carnival-type event where he had first seen Uncle Spam.  So maybe it
was a 384 G.  Barney had never seen one of those, but he had heard
Andy describe it in chilling detail.

Andy looked straight ahead and held his voice completely flat, devoid
of emotion: "Barn.  Take that garter belt off, and straighten your tie
after you take the bra off."

Barney, now pale as a ghost, removed the sequined items in a matter of
seconds.

"They got to me before I could hit the door Anj.  It was horrible!"
Sounded like a lame excuse to Andy.  He thought Barn had kept these
items with him since they left Mayberry.  After a second glance to the
right, Andy believed him, because by no stretch was Thelma Lou a 38D.
Still, that didn't prove the rumours around town were false, either.

It took a full hour of Andy's masterful negotiating to get all the
Darling boys back in the truck.  Even the old man himself was
surprised at the condition of some of his boys as they stumbled out of
the brothel.  Seems a misunderstanding ensued when they introduced
themselves as "the Darling brothers".

Andy had to go around back and order Opie out of a tree where he was
peeking in a back window.  Andy also reminded Opie that it's easier to
climb out of a tree if you stop what you're doing and therefore have
both hands available for climbing.  Never mind the fact that one hand
would be quite slippery at this point.

-------

Mr. Drysdale had to ride on his stomach in the back of Mrs. Hathaway's
convertible on his way to the Clampett's, and the speed bumps had
plastered a permanent grimace on his face.  Mrs. Hathaway picked a
curcuitous route there, just because she could!  Speed bumps and her
favorite appliance -- we'll just call it "Steely Dan" -- were her
favorite combination when she was, um, tooling around the city.
Mrs. Hathaway knew every speed bump in the area, and she hit them
all. As she slowed to a stop in front of the Clampett mansion, Granny
was waiting to greet them.  Her face turned deadly serious and even
more wrinkled than usual when she saw how Mr. Drysdale was sitting.

She lifted his moo-moo to see what was the problem. "Awww,
Mr. Drysdale, you cain't get rid o' them sittin' sores thataway!
Prayin' and-a faith healing ain't gonna do no good!"  Before he could
protest, Granny had Jethro throw him across his shoulders and take him
out back for treatment.  Granny just shook her head when Milburn
started crying.  She knew how bad hemorrhoids could hurt, but a doctor
has to do what she has to do!

Jed was glad to see Mrs. Hathaway again.  He was especially happy to
see that she could walk normally again.  He was saddened that she
didn't bring the pig suit.  Weddings always put Jed in a festive mood.
Playing dress-up was his favorite way to celebrate.  The muffled
screams coming from out back made him forget all about pigs, stove
pipes and soda straws.  He ambled on back to see what was the problem.

"Granny, you know that city-folk like Mr. Drysdale ain't used to home
remedies like we are."

"I know Jed, but this is a medical eee mergency!"  Jed had to agree
with Granny's assesment of the situation.  He just hoped that the
kerosene and sulfur would help the scars from the leeches heal.

As he walked back into the kitchen, he knew immediately that Miss Jane
was already setting her sights on Jethro.  If anyone could help with
his problem, she could.

------

Remarkably, Las Vegas proved to be the only place along the way in which
they had any problems.  Granted that the rest-stop breaks were more
frequent and urgent enough that twice the Darlings even agreed to use 
an indoor facility that had running water.  Apparently, they were willing 
to bend the rules concerning their motto of "The only hole the backside of 
a Darling gets near is one that's been done dugged into the ground."  On 
the other hand, the rule had already been seriously "bent" in Vegas.  Andy 
had to admit that he preferred the outhouses as well, if for no other 
reason than the fact that there were fewer people around that would 
get frightened when the bathroom breaks were punctuated with wild screams.  
A sheriff always thinks about keeping the peace.  Once he got back, he'd 
have to ask Doc Stevens if there really WAS such a disease and Egyptian 
Camel Rot, and if so, how quickly it worked on humans.

Andy did have to get Opie "unstuck" once from a knothole in the side 
of the outhouse during one of their breaks.  But all it required was one 
good hit with his shoe.  Opie was quiet for two hours after that.  And an
hour after that, he regained consciousness.  While Andy felt sympathy for
the boy, he figured the splinters would make him keep his hands to himself,
at least for the next couple of days.

Barney was his usual fidgety self.  Since there were only so many things
Andy could watch over, and he really didn't want Barney to go ballistic
until they were in the safety of their host's property, he decided to
give Barney his bullet, so he could "help defend themselves on the freeway."
Barney was quiet, murmuring incoherently (but happily) for the duration
of their leg on the freeway.  Andy did have to roll down the windows
to clear out the smell a little.  But they were practically at their
destination.  The Darling clan had only fired their shotgun at three 
cars, and in Los Angeles that's really not enough to even get noticed.

-------

Now Jed had a little problem on his hands.  While Jethro may have been
"relieved" he knew it wouldn't last too long.  A young boy like that
doesn't need much to set him off, and the bridal party certainly wouldn't
make things any better.  Jed felt no negative feelings towards Miss
Hathaway, and would be happy to share the "fruit of his loins" with
her.  His only concern was that Jethro might take a while to figure things
out.  And while he could try again, and again, and again (and several times
beyond that according to Granny), it'd be a shame if he "done broke her."
Why, the first time Jed took her for a spin, she brought so many things
with her, you'd need a college degree just to figure out where everything
fit in.  

Nope, there simply was no two ways about it.  Jed was going to have to
show Jethro himself.   When Granny came back in, after dealing with her
eee mergency, Jed began, "I was thinking that since the wedding is still
a couple days off, we can't be too careful with Jethro."

"Now Jed...my jaw is sore enough already.  I cain't be expected to..."

"Now hold on there a minute, Granny.  Now Granny, what you did for 
Jethro was a fine piece of work.  What I was thinking was something 
to help him out in addition to it.  Now, Miss Jane..."

"Land sakes, Jed!  A long, tall, wirey thing like that?  He'll done break 
her and gut her like a fish."

"Miss Jane ain't that wirey."

"I wasn't talking about Miss Jane."

"Well, now, what I was thinking was that I could give him a hand, help
him out, you see.  Fact is, the whole family could probably give him a 
hand without bothering him much.  But, Miss Jane is, you know, a little
bit fussy when it comes to those things.  I'd expect old Jethro might 
not even know which end is up.  Why shucks, it took me 10 minutes just 
to find the keys to the hand cuffs, let alone how long it took me to get 
them off the ring.  So what I was thinking was that you might be able to 
help her out.  Give her something that'd make her a bit more cooperative."

Granny thought for a moment and then said, "Well, if'n it's something to
put her in the mood you want, I cain't think of anything better than a 
batch of my crawdads.  And whiles I was saving them for the wedding, I
could spare a few of them, if'n it'd get that boy of yours out of my hair
for a while."

"Uh, Granny, speakin' of gettin' Jethro outta yer hair ..." Jed
trailed off since Granny was already out of earshot.  He figured she
had been interrupted at the cement pond when Miss Jane brought Mr.
Drysdale to be tended to.

Before she could get the pickled crawdads upstairs to Miss Jane, she
heard an awful commotion coming out of Jethro's room.  It reminded
Granny of the time Jethro took a spring lamb and a house cat into the
woodshed and tried to teach himself about the birds and the bees.
Granny still couldn't figure out how Jethro managed to capture the
buzzard and the nest of hornets.  Someday Jed was gonna have to have a
looooooong talk with that boy.  Granny waited outside Jethro's door
for a minute or two, hoping he wasn't hurting Miss Jane too badly.
When the blood-curdling screams died down to a peaceful moan, she
finally realized that it was NOT Miss Jane that had been screaming!
Granny couldn't figure out why Jethro never won the hog-calling
contest, what with the wailing he had just demonstrated.  She giggled
quietly and opened the door on the little love birds.  The love birds
were dead, anyway.  Miss Jane had strange tastes.  Why couldn't she
use a chicken like most folks? Granny never cared much for foreplay,
anyway.  She stepped over the car battery, around the steel rack and
found Jethro and Miss Jane behind the bellows.  Jethro was holding her
up side down by the knees, like a skinned hog.  The look on Miss
Jane's face -- the parts of her face that were visible, anyway -- told
Granny that te crawdads were not needed.  The screams that were
starting up by the cement pond meant that Ellie Mae must have found
Mr. Drysdale.  Granny poked her head out the window for a look.  Ellie
was nowhere in sight.  She went into the hall and hollered:

"Ellie Mae! Girl! Git yer critters away from Mr. Drysdale!  The salve
ain't even dry yet!"

Ellie Mae skittered out of her room and headed downstairs, wearing a
black leather teddy and army boots.  Granny figured Ellie could finish
her wedding outfit later on.

-------

Andy's car and the Darling's truck pulled up to the front door of the
mansion just in time to see Jed chasing some of Ellie's critters
around from the side of the house.  Andy was glad to see that city
life hadn't changed Jed any.  They disappeared back around the other
side of the house before Andy could notice that Jed was trying to
retrieve Mr. Drysdale's toupee and boxer shorts from Ellie's little
chimpanzee.  Since the chimp was actually wearing these items, Andy
mistakenly figured the Clampetts had gone citified and gotten some
hired help.

"Come on, Barn.  Let's go on in and see if we can help with wedding
stuff."

Jed had almost caught up with Ellie's chimpanzee when he saw the patrol
car pull into his driveway and heard a voice from the car's PA speaker
call out, "Cease pursuit of the simian!"  He let the chimp get away 
(toupee and all), since he knew where to find it later (Grany never did 
anything quietly) and apparently the Beverly Hills Police had some 
strange notions about what people in these parts do with chimps (pulling 
the duct tape off would hurt the poor little fellow; much easier to just 
train them to hush up, and after all Ellie DID have a way with critters).  

But as soon as Andy stepped out of the car, grinning from ear to ear,
Jed recognized his old friend and his little joke.

"Well, cover me with rancid possum fat, beat me with soap in a sock, 
and lock me in a hot, 1 cubic foot box for a week, if it ain't Sheriff 
Andy!" He quickly added, "Sorry, got too much on my mind planning for
the wedding.  If I don't keep repeating things, I'll forget 'em."

"Jed!  Jed Clampett.  Why, it's been at least three years, but I swear
it seems like just last week we was out shooting 'coons."

"Well, them were the days Andy, though in a neighborhood like this, you
seen nary a single one these days, excepting those that Ellie brings home
with her."

"Well just you take a look at this house.  Don't it just beat everything!
MMMMMMmmmmm  MMMMMmmmm MMMMMMMM!!!  Why Jed, you've outdone yourself."

Quietly, in the distance, could be heard, "Jeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeed!
That damn chimp of Elle's just took a hairball off'n its haid and stuck it
up my bee-hind and then came in my mouth!!!!"

Respectfully, Andy turned back to Jed and began, "So, I take it Granny..."

"She ain't dead yet, no." Jed finished.  "Jest as spunky as ever."  And
under his breath added, "and apparently now even more so."

In a way, a very small way, Andy was relieved.  He figured it's best not
to mar such happy occasions.  A very small way.  The wind had shifted 
away from the compost heap, and the disturbing smell reminded Andy that 
the Darlings were here as well.  "Jed, my deputy Barney and my boy Opie 
are here with me, and at your service.  I also made sure your 'band' got
here safely as well.  So if there's something we can give you a hand with..."

"Well, now that you mentioned it," Jed began slowly, as if it was a delicate
subject, "there IS something."

Jed and Andy stood by the front door of the great Clampett
mansion. Jed took out the pleasin' stick that he was whittling for
Ellie Mae as a wedding present.  He figured since she was gettin'
hitched, he'd carve her a double-ended one like she always wanted.
The tricky part was getting a piece of hickory strong enough to take
Ellie Mae.  The REALLY tricky part was whittling it so that both ends
were on the same end.  Every time Jed put it in his pocket, he had to
be careful.

Jed noticed that the Darlings started getting out of their truck.

Jed figured he'd put off mentioning it long enough.  He knew that
Sheriff Taylor would know what to do.

"Andy, Granny's been helping out around here an awful lot, and I
figured she deserves a break."

Jed mused further.  "Why, since just last week, she has helped out
Jethro, myself, Jethro again, Jethro AGAIN, Jethro and me at the same
time, Jethro and Ellie Mae at the same time, me again, Jethro again,
and now one of Ellie Mae's critters.  'Course that don't count her
trade she carries on downtown."

Jed paused for a moment to reflect.  "Now I don't worry about her
gettin' sore or nothin.  She has plenty of ways to doctor herself --
methods as old as the hills.  She knows 'em all.  I just worry she
ain't gettin' her due.  Why, I don't recall her havin' any kind of
pleasure quake in the last 6 months or so."

Andy nodded empathetically.  He remembered having the same problem
with Aunt Bea right after his wife passed on.  Most folks thought Aunt
Bea only had to worry about Andy.  Hell, Barney was so keyed up
everyone thought he wasn't getting any.  What most people didn't know
was that gettin' it pity-style from Aunt Bea was what made him so durn
keyed up in the first place!  Put all the rumors on top of that, and
nobody would blame Andy for taking his bullet away.  Suddenly, Andy
realized that Jed was still talking ...

" ... and then she had to straighten and CLEAN all those coat hangers.
Doctorin's haaard work.  Then you have all the cleanin' that she. "

The Darlings were almost finished unloading their truck.

"YEEEEHEHEHEHEEEEEEE"  The high, hoarse laugh penetrated the
consciousness of all present -- right down to their very souls.

Andy and Jed wheeled around just in time to see a dirty, wiry little
monkey of a man skitter out from under the Darling's truck!  He was
headed for the back of the house at alarming speed and stopped at the
corner of the house for the briefest of moments.

Andy barked out at the scummy little rodent of a man:
"ERNEST T BASS!"  "Git back here NOW!"

Ernest T. Bass jumped in place like a Leprechaun on an acid and speed
highball, and looked mockingly at the small crowd.

"Yessirree ... you see me.  ... I'm the one  ... called Ernest T!"

"Did you ride from Mayberry -- the whole way -- hiding under the
Darling's truck?!?!?"

"Could it be?  ... Don't you see? ... saw it in ... a big movie!"
"If you see ... right movie ... it is done ... to Nick Nolte!"
"It is done ... by my hero ... known by all ... as De Niro!"

Ernest T. Bass left what he thought of fondly as a brilliant riddle
hanging in the florid California air and was around the corner in a
jump and a flash.

Andy was perplexed as to how Ernest T managed to hang on the whole
way.  He was more perplexed as to how Ernest T managed to not get in
trouble aling with the Darlings in Las Vegas. If Andy had looked under
the truck, he would have seen that Ernest T was not idle during their
stop ...

Jed just smiled.  He knew the answer.  Not to the riddle -- he
couldn't give 2 possum shits about that -- one look at Ernest T and he
knew how to solve Granny's problem.

At that particular moment, Jethro and Miss Jane came stumbling out the
front door.

From the back of the house, came a rapid fire succession of sounds and 
noises, each no more than a second in duration.  Technically, it could 
be described as sounding something like, "WoofChirpNeighSqueekGobble-
MooWahgahMmmmmphHootMeowHiss..." and gradually fading out in the distance.
However, that does nothing to describe the sound of surprise and distress
in each of the voices.  Yet saying, "It sounded like someone just fucked
a dog, a sparrow, a horse, a mouse, a turkey, a cow, a man in two places,
an owl, a cat, a snake, ... assembly-line style" fails to do it justice.
Because of that, the group could only stare in mute silence, with the
sounds of the "menage a menagerie" fading into the distance, occasionally
punctuated by Ernest T's giddy laughter.

Suddenly, as if having gone through her mental checklist of all involved
in Ernest T's recent "conquest," Miss Jane's face became alarmed, as she 
ran out back yelling, "Chief!  I'm on my way!!!"  Of course, she was 
running kind of slower than normal, and walking kind of funny, for that 
matter.

"Anj!"  Barney began.  The stress in his voice made his scrawny vocal
chords squeak out the words an octive higher than normal (a couple of 
the dogs in the front yard turned and headed towards the back yard;
they weren't ignorant critters, they knew the pain in their ass would
be less than the pain in their ears).  "It could be anything!  ANYTHING!"

"Barn, what you talking about?"

"The movie!  Why, that's a real stumper there.  I can't reckon which
picture show had DeNiro and Nolte in it.  And if we don't figure THAT
out, how will we know who, I mean how, I mean..."  The dogs stopped
their journey as Barney's voice dropped and octive and a half, as he
assumed his "official inquiry" tone as he turned to the Darlings.
"Any of you people remember what that riddle was?"

"Barn!  You beat everything!  You know that, you beat EVERYTHING!"  
Andy had enough on his hands with the wedding, the investigation, 
and now Ernest T, that he didn't need to go sheepdogging Barney back to 
the matter at hand.  But having said that, he remembered that he still
had to keep an eye on Opie.  "Here we are, trying to help out a wedding
when Ernest T Bass shows up out of nowhere, and all you care about
is a PICTURE SHOW?"  Turning, he addressed the elder Darling.  "Mr.
Darling, can you look after my boy for a spell."

"Why, I'd consider it an honor to be entrusted with the fruit of your
loin, Sheriff Andy,"  Mr. Darling said, although phrasing it like that
gave Andy second thoughts.  Mr. Darling turned to Opie and said, "Well
now, boy, you can spend some sitting-time with me and my boys.  Your
paw ever show you something called a 'circle jerk'?"

"Oh boy!"  Opie could hardly contain himself.  In fact, he couldn't.
And for the first time, the Darling boys turned their heads and grinned,
reacting with something other than catatonia.  As they led Opie away, 
Andy knew the boy would be in good hands.

Andy turned to Jed and said, "Well Jed, I suppose we should go back
and take a look at what Ernest T's done.  This is our problem, there's
no need for you to go with us."

"Well, I do appreciate that, Andy, but the fact is that I need to
have a word with Mr. Drysdale, who's back there now.  And I'd expect
that by now, Miss Jane, that's the one who bolted back there, would 
have his mouth washed out, so's I COULD have a word with him.  Fact
is, since he's a Big City sort of fellow, I figured he might be able 
to help with the bachelor party which I was planning on having tonight.
Of course, you all are welcome to come."

"Jed, you might have some tired people on your hands for the ceremony
tomorrow, if people have themselves a good old time tonight," Andy said.

"Well, I know that," then Jed added, "but if anyone needs some perking
up, I'm sure Granny can help them.  She's been fixing to try out her
latest batch of perk-up tonic anyway."

And with that, they headed to the backyard.


Jethro stumbled to his feet in a daze.  He was the only one left out
front after Jed and Andy headed around back. Jethro wanted to go find
Miss Jane out back (he was ready for more), and he wanted to go join
the circle jerk that was getting started around the palm tree out
front.  He just stood there, thinking of each, looking back and forth.
Riding crop ... beat off with kinfolk ... neck brace ... beat off with
kinfolk ... branding iron ... beat off with kinfolk ...

Jed and Andy came upon quite a sight in the back yard.  There was a
blurry ball of moving animal flesh occupying the same space at the
same time near the cement pond. Ernest T was moving around the blurry
critter ball so fast he could barely be seen. Miss Jane watched the
cartoonish commotion in horror.  After a few minutes the motion came
to an abrupt stop and Ernest T let out a loud yell.  

Judging by the approximate critter-scatter, here is what happened: The
cat ate the sparrow when they were off of Ernest T's plook-cycle.
This pissed Ernest T off, because he wasn't done with the sparrow yet.
Since the sparrow went down head first, Ernest decided to fuck the cat
AND the sparrow at the same time.  Ernest T liked the bite marks that
the cat left behind.  Ernest T ALWAYS misunderstood what was meand by
having some pussy. The dog was hiding behind the woodpile, the horse
had passed out from the pain.  The mouse and turkey appeared to be
fast friends.  The snake crawled up the cow's ass to hide (and got
pummeled by Ernest T's member for hiding in such a stupid place).  The
cow got so despondent it had apparently drowned itself in the cement
pond.  The Owl's feathers were everywhere, but the owl was nowhere to
be found.  Ellie Mae's chimp, decked out in a Hawaiian shirt and
sunglasses, had been spared because it had agreed to take pictures.
Oh, and Mr. Drysdale had a very pleasant, relaxed look on his face.
He and Ernest T, arm in arm, were using the dead cow as a floating
barcalounger.  Miss Jane, happy to see her boss was OK, started
undoing the nipple clamps that Jethro had pinned on her.

Jed was damn glad to see that things were at peace.  He was more
pleased that Ernest T got some of the spunk outta his system, because
now Ernest T could service granny proper like Jed hoped he would.

Right about this time, Jethro had come to a brilliant decision out
front.  He ran around back, threw a decidedly cooperative Miss Jane
over his shoulder, and ran back to the front yard.  Miss Jane's
delight turned to muffled protest when she found out what Jethro had
in mind.  Everyone out back just watched and listened.  Nobody could
understand why the palm tree out front was shaking so violently.

Mr. Drysdale promptly made a few phone calls to arrange a proper
bachelor party.  It was obvious Miss Hathaway was in no position to
make his calls for him.

Dash Riprock drove up an hour later and saw what had started as a
circle jerk slowly winding down around the palm tree.  At first he
thought the bachelor party had started without him.  The whole clan of
men jumped in the Clampett's old truck and took off for the bachelor
party!  Barney had to stay behind and help Granny baby-sit Opie.
After everyone left, Granny started eyeing Barney slyly out of the
corner of her eyes...

-----------

"So....deputy.  What'd you say your name was again?" Granny began.  She
knew his name, all the Clampetts had heard of Andy's adventures, and Barney 
seemed to be involved in a good number of them.  She paused long enough 
so that he could start to answer, but not long enough for him to actually
say anything.  "Why you must be hungrier than a polecat without its pole
up its...well, we can have that fixed in a jiffy.  You're as skinny as a
hound dog that ain't nothing to eat excepting itself.  What with all your
adventures chasing that  outlaw around," for an instant as she said the 
word outlaw, her screech changed.  One would almost call it husky by 
comparison; but nonetheless the screech still kept all the local dogs away.
She continued, "I bet you could use a good homecooked meal, couldn't you?"
Again, she paused long enough to frustrate Barney, and then continued,
"and how about you boy, would you like something sweet to nibble on?"

Opie nodded his head in agreement with as much vigor as he could muster.
Being a "doctor," Granny noted that she should make sure the boy gets
some fluids in him, as he seemed quite dehydrated.

----------

As they had a some time to kill before the bachelor party proper began,
and the others still hadn't showed up, the group spent a little time in 
pre-celebration.  Running out of ideas, as he had never had to deal with
the diverse appetites of so many of Jed's kin and clan before, he did
what any rational person would do in Chinatown to waste some time.  He
took them to an Opium Den.  With all the costumes that had been used up
until that point, he had completely forgotten that Andy was still in
uniform.

As they walked through the strings of beads hanging down through the
entranceway, into the room lit by soft red light, they could hear the 
sound of alarm in the voices of the patrons (though some were less alarmed
or aware than others).  But a single voice cut through the clatter.

"Ab-Ab...uh-uh...buh-buh...Andyyyyyyyyyyyy......"

Andy turned and faced the man sitting in a large chair with no less 
than three hookah pipes actively going.  Andy, as usual, was unfazed.

"Buh-buh...but....I mean...you're not supposed to be...heeeeeeeeeeere."
The man's voice conveyed the amazing quality of being alarmed and shaken
as well as complete apathy, loss of all feeling, and distance simultaneously.

Andy just nodded his head and said, "hey, Floyd."

Looking at Mr. Darling and his sons, Floyd became lucid for a moment.
"Why...Mr. Darliiiiiiiiiiiing.  I uh-uh ... I thought...thought you
were taking more...sooooooooooons."

Mr. Darling took his hat off his head and held it against his chest for
a moment, and said with the somber voice of mountain wisdom, "Acceptable
losses, Mr. Floyd."

Both Andy and Mr. Drysdale winced at how the three boys met their unfortunate
end, but neither could help but wonder what their last thoughts would be
and whether it would be worth it.  Both made a mental note.

"Floyd," Andy cut in.  He knew Floyd wouldn't be lucid for long, so he
had to hurry.  "The others.  Where are the others?  We were all supposed 
to meet.  WHere are the others, Floyd?"

"Oh...wuh-wuh-well...it's just that they...I mean...I told them...won't
be looooooong...just a hit  a hit or two, another hiiiiiiiiiiit."  With
that, Floyd did just that from all three pipes at the same time.  His
eyes started to glaze over again, but he continued, "I told them...have
fuuuuuuuun.  I'll be back sooooooooon.  Not a loooooooong trip.  Not
at all.  And even so...they said they'd stop back at the top of the 
hour to get meeeeeeee....."

Andy was relieved.  At least they had the sense not to leave Floyd alone
in an Opium Den.  That meant they should be back in a few minutes, so they
could wait.  

For a moment, the serene distance in Floyd's eyes faded, as he said, "
Buh-buh-but Andy...I mean ... Opieeeeee  he st-st-stopped by my barber
shop.  Huh-huh-he w-w-wanted....a haircuuuuuuuuuut.  So I gave him one...
gave him one....  a haiiiiiirrrrrrcuuuuut....."  Floyd's voice faded out
into an incoherent babble as he took a tripple hookah hit.

----------

Barney was a little concerned.  For many reasons.  The least of which
was the fact that Opie was sitting at the table with his head buried
in a plate of "vittles" that Granny had "fixed up."  While that behavior 
was no different than Opie's normal table manners, he wasn't eating.  
Granny had assured him that the boy was just plum tuckered out, as he
as well as the palm tree outside, had probably never seen such action.
He needed his rest.

Moving up a notch on Barney's list of concerns was what the "vittles"
that he had just eaten were doing to his innards.  It was as if he
could feel each crawdad working its way through his intestines.  But
he had to admit, the more he ate, the better they seemed.

His next concern was related to the previous one.  But he had to admit, 
the more he ate, the better Granny seemed.  He KNEW nothing was different,
but somehow she seemed less ancient and more ... pert.  He KNEW she was
still old and saggy, but somehow his brain couldn't convince any other 
part of his anatomy of that.  (However, that's hardly unusual, as 
practically any resident of Mayberry will tell you, when the good lord
made Barney, he saw fit to put the part of him that's used the most right
next to the part of him that's used the least, namely his mouth and his
brain.)

But his biggest concern at the moment was that imminent failure of
the elastic on his underwear, followed immediately by his leather belt,
which would, in the process, fire his belt buckle straight into Opie.
If the projectile belt buckle didn't kill the boy, then he'd probably
wind up being gutted like a fish.  Barney was so on edge that he couldn't
risk fidgeting.  All he could do was eat more crawdads and listen to 
his pulse increase.

The next time Granny sashayed by (my, how her baggy clothes clung tightly
to ... no, stop, mustn't think of ... although ... ), she could tell that
Barney needed "relieving" something fierce.  She crept up to him and said
quietly, "Dep-u-ty..."

Barney looked up.  His eyes were holow pits, his face was pale covered with
perspiration.  "G-g-g-...  granny..." he began and tilted his head up towards
the ceiling, mouth agape.  His head stopped as his face was staring at the 
ceiling, but his eyes continued the rotation his head had started until
they were no longer visible.  Granny knew a scrawny little fellow like 
Barney wouldn't have enough blood in him to handle a stomach as full as
his, his 'nether realms' AND have enough left over for his brain.

She walked up to him and gingerly lifted his reclining head and placed
it flat down in the plate of crawdads (just like Opie and his bowl of 
squirrel chitterlings).  She knew that way, it'd be his stomach that would 
give his brain enough blood to wake up long before his groin did.  And
crawdads take quite a few hours to digest.

If she wasn't going to get any, the hell that this scarecrow of a man 
and his little twig would see any action.  And just like Andy, she 
enjoyed seeing him frustrated.

Now with her guests well taken care of, with the exception of Miss Jane,
who would probably take a couple of hours to unstick herself from the palm
tree, she could begin her search in Ernest, as it were.  

----------

Andy found Gomer looking in a peep show. He couldn't figure out what
all the fuss was about.  Gomer had seen naked womanly flesh strike the
same poses countless times before.  However, this was a *person* he
was staring at, not a cow, goat, pig or squirrel.  Dang sick Hollywood
types.  Gomer had tried to remain tolerant of the views of others, but
this woman taking her clothers off was just too much for him.  He
wished Goober was here with him.  They could at least amuse themselves
together...

Andy found Howard Sprague, brown tweed suit and all, in a Chinatown
alleyway a couple of blocks from the opium den.  Howard was having the
time of his life!  He had his hand stuck down in his pants, giggling
like a schoolboy.  A few feet away was an elderly hooker with a
confused, slightly sickened look on her face.  She had her blouse
unbuttoned and she was slightly opening and closing her top, slyly
showing Howard her cross-your-heart bra.  Howard was so happy, Andy
didn't have the heart to stop him.

Dash, a little giddy from the opium, had to let Jed drive.  Most were
quite respectful at how well Jed held his smoke.  They all piled back
into the Clampett's and the Darling's trucks and tooled off out of
Chinatown.  Howard stared wistfully after his older friend in the
alleyway.  The hooker just thought that was the weirdest 5 bucks she
had earned in a while.

----------

Granny slipped into something a little more comfortable before she
sashayed around the house, looking for Ernest T.  She put a little
vanilla extract behind her ears and put on her best open-top underwire
bra.  She pooched up her saggy little pancake tits and displayed them
in the top if her bra as oysters on the half shell.  Rather more like
smoked oysters on the half shell.  OK, just like smoked oysters that
had been eaten by a buzzard, regurgitated into a pile of rooster shit
and rolled around on the sticky floor of a movie theater that had just
finished showing a double feature of Jon Waters' "Polyester" and "Pink
Flamingoes" to a group of incontinent first graders on acid who had
the stomach flu.  After that, the same theater showed "Attack of the
Chopper-Riding Big-Titted Bleached-Blonde Cock-Sucking Stewardesses"
to a group of drunk Hells Angels (and their bitches) right out of
prison.  Midway through the movie, the Hells Angels saw the smoked
oysters on the floor.  They all ran from the theater in a terrified
panic and fled into the night, whimpering pitifully like Chihuahuahs
that had boiling battery acid splashed on their tiny little hairless
balls.

That's exactly what Granny's dried-up little titties looked like.

Granny gussied them up further and splashed a little vanilla extract
on them, too.  

And unfortunately, they were the high point of her ensemble.  She tied
a small ribbon around her arm.  It was not ornamental, like something
you would see on Rambo, but purely functional.  For without it, the
flap of loose skin on her scrawny arms would hang down nearly 12
inches, and could prove to be distracting during her more violent,
adventuresome maneuvers.  She was able to wrap the 12 inches of ribbon
around her arm no less than 4 times.

She had on a corset.  It was not to hide a bulging stomach; it was there
to hide a colostomy bag.  It wasn't hers.  She had never had a colostomy, 
but had obtained the bag from a neighbor that had, and wanted to keep that
as a surprise for Ernest, assuming he would live up to his reputation.

We will skip over the crotchless panties, except to say that they were
not crotchless when she put them on.  The only fitting analogy would
be Jeff Goldblum's secretions towards the end of the remake of The
Fly.  She splashed a little vanilla extract there too.  Only a little
because she figured she'd come back there when she was done and finish
off the rest of the bottle as a vanilla douche.

At first glance, once might think she had managed to find a pair of
fishnet stockings small enough to fit her spindly leg.  Yet the poor
soul who would risk a closer examination would see that it was merely
the dense network of varicose veins.  A dense, short, dark set of hairs,
again The Fly analogy might be appropriate, stuck out perpendicular to
her legs, giving the suggestion of a cactus.  

Finally, she was wearing her high heeled, spiked army boots, with cleats.
The were sensible, yet daring.  The fashionable open toe front gave a 
clear view of the green fungus growing under her toenails, which could
almost be mistaken for nail polish.  A quick tilt of the bottle sent a
couple of drops of vanilla extract sailing down towards her exposed
toes.  The were very sensible, practical shoes, indeed.  The vanilla
extract reacted to the toe fungi violently, boiling and spattering.

She sidled down the stairs and through each room downstairs, peeking
around each corner:

"Oh Errrrrnest!"

"Ernest Teeeeeee!"

Granny went out front and saw that Miss Jane had managed to free
herself from her natural secretions and thus freed herself from the
palm tree.  Either that or Ernest T had freed her himself with
lubrication from his tongue.  The look on Miss Jane's face confirmed
that the latter was true.

Miss Jane -- staggering, limping and tired -- looked at Granny in pure
admiration.  She fondly remembered the last time she had been with
Granny in the Biblical sense.  Miss Jane desperately wanted to embrace
Granny in another warm lesbian love-lock.  But Miss Jane was simply
too tired, and the look on Granny's face told her that she had
business to take care of somewhere else.  Ernest T business.

"Granny, you might find Ernest T around back near the pool."

Granny covered the distance from the tree in front to the pool in the
back in the same length of time that it took Jethro to finish off a
steaming potful of boiled mule and collard greens.  For her to cover
the ground faster would violate the immutable laws of physics.

Granny saw something dark and grimy in the bottom of the ceement pond.

"I see you, Ernest Teeeee!"

She figured out that it was one of Ellie Mae's critters that had
committed suicide after the horrible things Ernest T had made it do.
At that exact moment, Ernest T took aim at Granny's wrinkly, bent-over
butt and swung penis-first out of the trees overhead.

Ernest plunged his fast-moving projectile self right through Granny's
outfit. A look of complete surprise exploded on Granny's face.  Her
eyes opened wide, her jaw dropped and her tongue hung out.  One can get
a better understanding of her suprise when they realize it wasn't her
tongue that was hanging out of her mouth.

But that was only for a brief instant.  For his momentum didn't stop 
when he "connected" with Granny.  Instead, it carried both of them over
the cee-ment pond.  Granny's arms and legs were flailing wildly.  Ernest 
T's arms were holding the vine coming from the tree, while his legs 
flailed wildly, as if he were riding some sort of frenetic, kinetic 
bicycle.  His dick supporting the fully weight of Granny.  It was fortunate 
for him that she was so small, although if one were to believe the stories,
he had successfully hauled three times her weight before, and unsuccessfully
attempted to lift four times her weight once.  The ensuing few month
hiatus while Ernest T nursed his member back to health was directly
responsible for the long, hard winter that the Darlings had experienced
the last time Andy had seen them.

By the time they swung back to the edge of the pool and landed in the 
grass, Ernest had copulated no less than 7 times with Granny (the first
six counting as "foreplay").  Since his hands were occupied holding the
vine from which they swung, and, contrary to popular opinion, he did 
not have opposable thumbs on his toes, the easiest way to disrobe Granny
was to use his "jackhammer of love."  The only downside was that he
nearly gave Granny a slipped disk as he rammed through her bra strap.
She'd be bruised up a little, but her flailing had drawn blood, so they
were pretty much even.  Besides, that counted as extra lubrication.

Since he couldn't think of a rhyming couplet to beat his previous one, 
he expressed himself in the next best way.  

Normal people, upon hearing Ernest T's screams would think of 2
things:

(1) Why are hundreds of babboons being tortured with an electric
current to the testicles?  

(2) How can I get away from the incredible noise before suffering
permanent psychological damage that will ripple through the next 3
generations of my offspring?

Those that knew the inner workings of Ernest T's mind knew better.
Much better.  They knew he had found his way to ecstacy.  With the
incredible speed that Ernest T was moving his member, Granny was
thankful that she had prepared herself with possum renderings while
getting dressed.

Ernest and Granny went at it like like 2 teenagers on prom night after
consuming a triple-dose of Spanish Fly with a cappuccino chaser.  They
did everything Granny had hoped for: 
Granny on top, Ernest T on bottom.
Ernest T on top, Granny on bottom.
Ernest on top and bottom.
Ernest on top of Granny's bottom.
Ernest UNDER Granny's bottom.
Granny's bottom dragged through the gravel.
Ernest squealing like a pig.
The pig squealing like Ernest T.
The pig squealing at Granny, pleading for mercy.

The only thing they didn't do yet was 'pit style', which the Clampett
clan traditionally saved for the wedding day.

Granny was COMPLETELY and blissfully satisfied.  She had never been
with someone with Ernest T's stamina.  Ernest T had never been with
someone so ... so ... human?  They lay together naked by the pool --
her wrinkly naked body next to his grimy little skinny body.  Out of
the corner of her eye she saw Opie, wide-eyed and smiling, one hand on
the kitchen windowsill and the other had thrashing wildly
out-of-sight.  She dressed and ran into the kitchen to see Barney,
passed out on the floor.  By the look of horror that was frozen on
his face, she knew that he had seen enough of the thunderous fucking
she had received to force this rather severe condition.  Medical
attention was required.  She pulled back an eyelid only to see his
eyeballs were rolled back in his skull.  He looked like he had 2
boiled eggs for eyes.  

"Good! At least ya didn't dig 'em out with a fork or anything."

She tied him up with a stick across his molars to keep him from
swallowing his tongue when he awoke.

----------

By now, the bachelor party was in full swing.

Chapter 3: The Last Breast of Freedom

Mr. Drysdale didn't have much time to plan for this bachelor party,
nor was he familiar with the "tastes" of anyone other than Jethro
and Jed, and with them, he merely had a better idea as to "appetite"
than "tastes."  Still, he did the best that he could.  It was a lot
of work, and he was quite tired.  He had to bow out after the third
round with the "electro-jack" bull prod.  As Jethro stepped up to
take his 7th turn, Mr. Drysdale patted the several extra sets of batteries
in his pocket that he had remembered to bring with him.  He was slightly
disturbed when he realized they weren't batteries.

Gomer was demonstrating some "marine training" he had received.  Even
with 240 volts and a respectable current applied directly to his
scrotum, Gomer managed to remain in complete control.  The few times
his willpower waivered, he just belted out an aria or two.  Apparently
it worked better than thinking about baseball.  The snakes liked it
too.  The minute he finished, that silly, shit-eating grin reappeared
on his face.  Apparently anything less than a bayonette up the ass
would only barely get a rise out of him.  The Marines had trained him
well.  He was Sgt. Carter's personal career achievement.

Andy and Jed just sat back and reminisced about old times and caught
up on recent happenings.  Jed had continued his whittling and Andy
was strumming quietly on a guitar.  Andy surveyed the party, and the 
variety of entertainment that had been provided and said, "Different 
strokes, for different folks.  There's certainly more than one way to 
skin a cat."

"Why, I've hardly even scratched the surface, Andy," Jed said, as he
threw another pelt in the growing pile between them.  Howard interrupted 
them to borrow Andy's handcuffs, since he wasn't using them.  Andy obliged, 
but made Howard promise that he'd return them promptly...clean.  

"Awwww, gee Andy...I mean...I guess I'll just use this rubber band
and coke bottle," Howard said, somewhat deflated, pulling out his
cigarette lighter, as he walked back to join the others.

Mr. Drysdale had ordered a half dozen, high-priced, busty Hollywood
call girls.  He also ordered a couple of crack-addicted "ho's," a boy
scout (he was unable to get an alter boy on such short notice),
various food items, a paramedic, and a few bouncers (to control any
onlookers).  The group couldn't hide their disappointment at first
until they pulled up to their destination: Petworld.  He had rented it
for the night.  Mr. Drysdale hadn't been promoted to his position for
lack of talent.  In appreciation, they let him pick out a sheep to
save for later (though he had to admit, he had never gerbiled a sheep
before; fortunately, there was quite a bit of duct tape available).

No one had seen Dash for almost 20 minutes as he "prepared himself" for
the main event.  Finally, he walked out from the back, ready for the 
traditional ordeal of pain and pleasure that lie ahead.

-----------

Opie stared at Barney for several minutes.  He had seen Barney fly off
the handle before, but this was different.  Barney was still unconscious,
but he was twisting against the ropes that held him in place and periodically
made gagging noises.  The only thing that had saved Opie from a similar
fate was the fact that he was ambidextrous.  Opie had heard the commotion
outside when Granny was looking for Ernest T.  He had started his one-handed
workout as he when he heard Granny heading outside.  However, while his arms
were used to the piston motion, they weren't used to supporting his weight
on the windowsill.  Deciding to give his arm a rest, he swapped positions.  
However, it didn't quite dawn on him that his other hand was in no condition 
to hold himself up being somewhat lubricated.  He quickly slipped backwards
and fell flat on his back.  

The noise was enough to wake up Barney, and sure enough his belt buckle 
popped off and flew in Opie's direction.  Fortunately, Opie was flat on
his back at that moment.  Unfortunately, the metal projectile was aimed
right at the direction of his erection.  The loud <ping> further got
Barney's attention as he headed toward Opie, who had now assumed the fetal
position.  With one hand holding up his pants, Barney happened to look out
the window just in time to see Ernest T and his crooked member fly by 
(though not in that order).  Barney had a full view of everything.  

By the time Opie could get back up to the windowsill and get back to his
business, Barney had replaced him on the ground.  Opie could only wonder
what was going through Barney's mind.

------

In the torrent of images, one kept recurring, and the harder he tried to
block it out, the more vivid it became.  There was a swimmer, ascending
to the surface, in slow motion.  As the diver's hand's just begin to broach
the surface, the perspective changes.  The two hands emerge, but not from
water but from earth, cleaving it in two to make room.  The hands keep
enough pressure to force the hole wider as an elbow emerges and eventually
the upper arm.  They are filthy, covered in dirt and mud and it is raining.
Around the time the elbows can bend and start to pull the rest of the 
body out, the perspective starts to change, to pull back.  Somehow, defying
physics, the filth encrusted body is that of Ernest T, and he is emerging
out of Granny's hindquarters and she seems to be quite pleased about it.
Then, with only a foot still connecting the two, they both turn and stare 
right at him and smile and open their mouth as if they were going to say 
something.

Things fall apart after that and the flood of other images wells up at
this point.

------

Having assured herself that the newest patient was suitably restrained
(Jed had recently made the ropes of of the sinews of some unfortunate
raccoons that wandered too close to Jethro's room when he was in dire
need of some relieving; in fact, that was about all that was left of
the raccoons that was salvageable once Jethro got done with them) and
would not be a threat to himself or the others, Granny had some chores
to do.  She felt better than she had in years.

She decided that this being Ellie Mae's first wedding, it should be
done up right.  "Ernest T," she began, as he was still around.  For
the first time (ever?), he needed to take a bit of a breather before
high-tailing it off to the woods.  "I need your hep on something.  Now
even though I told you'd I'd castrate you 'n' make you eat your own
testicles if you so much as even pronounce Ellie Mae's name," she
paused to indicate that no matter what she felt for him, she would
still carry out her threat.  He swallowed hard as his testicles
instinctually tried to retreat to a higher ground (somewhere around
his small intestines) and nodded to show he understood.  She
continued, "I want to make tomorrow a special day for her, I want
everything to be done up right.  I had figured that this one detail
would have to go undone, but now with you here, well...I gots me some
baking to do, and I cain't do it by myself.  Would you lend a hand?"

Ernest T knew what she was asking and since he had no where to go at
the moment, he wouldn't mind.  His testicles even descended down to his
lower intestine to test the waters.  "Why Granny, I'd be happy to help
you with E--," he stopped as Granny glared a look of pure malice, his 
testicles shot up into his throat in terror, but he caught himself, 
"eh ehneething you'd need for Jed Clampett's daughter's wedding."  

Granny seemed satisfied with that.  At that moment, there was a dull 
thud noise from out front.  They walked out to check and saw what had
once been a tall, proud palm tree was now about half its size, hanging
limpy down on the ground, though it was still firmly rooted to the 
ground at its base as well.  After a moment, Miss Hathaway managed 
to worm her way out from under the tree.  Before she could say anything,
Granny said, "T'aint nothing, Miss Jane.  It just means that the boys'll
be wrapping things up and heading home after a spell.  Come on," she said
to Ernest, "we've got work in the kitchen to do."

------

Dash came out into the center of the store mounted on a camel.  He
wasn't on the camel's back, he was *mounted* on the camel, hanging by
his hard-on.  Dash dismounted by using his dick for a pivot, enabling
himself to turn a full triple cartwheel on the camel's rump.  As he
spun himself, everyone called out "WHEEL ... OF ... FORTUNE". Gomer
got a little too excited by the sight.  Everyone cheered Dash on as he
started his fuck-fest around the store.  After this wild party, he
would be a married man.  Of course that meant that Ellie Mae would
have to satisfy his needs from now on.  Her and her critters, of
course.  That was the thing that attracted him to Ellie in the first
place.

Oh, and Granny would still give him, and everyone else, their holiday
blowjob. 

On and on he went, plooking everything in sight.  He did stop short of
the boa constrictor though -- Gomer was still having his way with it.

Finally, around 3 or 4 in the morning, there was a knock on the
service entrance door.  Andy went to see what was up -- almost nothing
was up inside anyway -- and was greeted by a moving van, doors already
open.  A procession entered the building, including a lederhosen-clad
overweight accountant carrying a cardboard box full of broken crayons,
a few Roman soldiers wearing Nixon masks, a llama pulling a calliope,
a gorilla with a few leaky car batteries, a stripper with some South
American fruit bats, a male nurse wearing a Miss Piggy costume, a few
midgets wearing bright pink biker outfits, seven goats dressed like
Carmen Miranda, a punk band (I think it was the Butthole Surfers) and
last but not least -- a bellows wheeled in by Sue herself.  Sue
greeted Andy with a quick, stooping curtsey, wiped off her face and
said that Uncle Spam was tied up and couldn't come.  Andy had always
thought Uncle Spam had to be tied up BEFORE he could come.  At that
point Andy realized Sue had just given him a lightning-fast blowjob.
The delayed orgasmic reaction sent him straight to the floor, writhing
in ecstacy.

The party hit its dizzying height at this point.  The band cranked up,
accompanied by the llama on the calliope.  Sue led the trained goats
in a banana-boat dance featuring some acrobatic sexual positions by
Sue, and some amazing scatological presentations by four of the goats
and the male nurse in the Miss Piggy costume.  Gomer quit working the
bellows just long enough to melt the crayons and funnel them up the
accountant's ass.  When the Roman soldiers started juggling their
swords using nothing but the muscles of their hairy buttocks, the
gorilla hooked the car batteries up to his testicles, hollered and
farted thunderously.  At that exact moment he jumped off the
batteries.  As his ball-sack skin pulled free, there was an electrical
arc that ignited the fart.  The orange fireball engulfed the gorilla
and burned all his hair off.  The fruit bats flew over the gyrating
gorilla and put out the fire with voluminous amounts of bat pee.  As
the smoke cleared, the midgets picked up the goat shit and started
juggling it like the flying Kamarazov brothers.  Except that the
midgets were using their feet and hard-ons to juggle the goat shit.
At that point, the pleased look on Sue's face let everyone know that
the whole gorilla incident had been carefully planned.  Either that or
she had finally found the batteries that operated her dildo.  The
gorilla bowed graciously and put on a diaper.

Everyone thanked Sue on their way out to the truck.  The party was
over.  What a party it had been. The truck pulled up to the Clampett
mansion at daybreak.

Granny was just putting the finishing touches on the jism-cake.
Ernest T. was exhausted but pleased.  Ernest T ran out of spunk right
before the top section was complete, so Opie had lent a lightning hand
as well.

---------

As can be expected, things started out somewhat subdued that morning.
It had been an exhausting day and night for everyone, so things didn't
start moving too quickly.  Fortnately, the men folk didn't have as 
complicated a garb to wear as the women folk.  While it was not exactly 
a tuxedo, Jed was wearing a fresh pair of burlap underwear and had put
on his weekend-hat.  

Andy was in his sheriff's uniform with his badge shining brightly (he had 
Opie polish it while they were first driving up; turned out it didn't keep 
Opie busy for anywhere as long as Andy had hoped).  Gomer was wearing his
dress blues, complete with a sword (always good to be prepared).  Jethro
wore his best pair of jeans.  They crinkled and cracked with a stiffness
as he moved; they hadn't been like that before the bachelor party.

While waiting, Mr. Darling walked up to Jed and said, "Mr. Clampett, why
it looks to be a fine day for this event.  I'm sure the Mrs. would be proud
and would've wished that she could be here." 

"Well now," Jed said.  Even the mention of his dearly departed didn't faze
him on this day, "If wishers were horses, them pigs'd be a lot dirtier, I
reckon."  Mr. Darling understood completely.  "Why, if I'd known, then..."

"No need to apologize there.  Why this is a happy occasion.  The thought's
greatly appreciated.  The more the merrier.  And what they say about 
variety...why I'm sure a change'd do us all some good anyhow."  And
with that, they walked downstairs.

At the squeak of a floorboard, Mr. Darling said, "Did somebody step on
a duck?"  Jed stopped and checked, because they had just passed
Ellie-Mae's room.  As it turned out, he hadn't; it was more like a
possum that had had all the fur shaved off it (again).  However,
several other noises could be heard coming from within the room.

There was Granny's screeching about the right way to do these things.
There was an "oooop!  ooooop!  oooop!"  which could be identified as
Aunt Bea's voice indicating that something WAS the right way to do
things.  Then there was a sound of a balloon stretching, leather
crackling, a snapping sound, several assorted barnyard animals, and
Sue's muffled voice saying, "No, Ellie-Mae, like THIS" followed by a
"ppppt -- ding!" sound. Astute readers should note that Sue was NOT
teaching Ellie-Mae how to spit tobacco.  In the short 10 minutes that
Jed and Mr.  Darling stood there, the door flew open and a very
frightened Miss Jane tried to run out of the room.  She was naked,
except for the three squawking chickens that were duct-taped to her
back.  Jed and Mr.  Darling broke out into smiles at the sight.  It
brought back many find memories for both.  As Ellie-Mae dragged Miss
Jane back in, 2 raccoons (dressed as Muppet characters) tried to
escape too.  Luckily for them, they were caught by Granny before they
ventured too close to Jethro's room.

Some of the guests had already started to arrive.  Andy heard Opie running
around like a chicken with its head cut off, yelling, "He's here, he's
here, he's here, oh BOY oh BOY OH BOY!!!"  Andy didn't even need to see
the hardhat to recognize Opie's buddy, Mr. McBeavey.  The "hands" that 
hung from his belt were different from the usual tools he had when he
worked up in the trees.  Indeed, a few of them even looked like actual
hands, although fists might be a more accurate description.  Well, at 
least the boy'll have someone to keep an eye on him for a while, and
he had nylon rope with him (so strong, yet soft and sensual).

Of course, Ernest T was nowhere to be seen.  This was to be expected
and most were grateful.

Andy checked to make sure that Dash was ok.  Floyd had given Andy two 
small red pills and a Mickey Mouse postage stamp to give to Dash, 
"j-j-just in case he need something to give him some g-g-g-get up and 
gooooooooooooooooooooooo."  Andy guessed that it must've come out of 
Floyd's private stock, since he could be seen outside with an 8" diameter 
joint coming out of his mouth and was using one of the music stands as 
a roach clip.  He only resorted to that when he was trying to cut down 
or running low.  He had the sense to stand downwind of the guests, just
east of the pit, as the second-hand smoke tended to hospitalize those 
that didn't have Floyd's constitution.

Dash didn't look too good.  Apparently the night had been a little too
much for him (and no one had even touched the moonshine the Darlings
had brought, everyone was saving that for after the wedding).  Dash
was still trying to pick the dried chicken feathers and cat fur off of
his privates.

The band was all set up by the ceement pond, and the wedding ceremony
was all set up to take place in the grand foyer near the staircase.

Barney, untied and apparently OK, was running security at the front
gate.  He was barking out orders and directing traffic.  Barney felt
needed and appreciated at his front post.  Andy was glad to have him
out of the way.  For safety's sake, Andy put Opie in charge of the
bullet. 

Things clicked along at a nice pace, and everyone got seated just in
time for the ceremony.  The Darlings left their makeshift stage by the
ceement pond and got ready near the doorway to the fancy eating table.
A hush fell over the crowd.  Dash came in from the kitchen area,
walking stiffly, even painfully to the front.  Apparently he had
gotten a little overzealous trying to remove what he THOUGHT was dried
feathers and cat fur.  He stood bravely near the old preacher.  As
Clampett tradition would have it, there was no best man.  They figured
that if the bride wasn't marrying the best man, the ceremony made as
much sense as backwood folk marrying outside the family.

When Miss Jane gave the signal, the Darlings started the wedding
march.  There was a quiver to her lip and a visible tear in Granny's
eye as Mr. Darling started softly hooting the familiar tune on his
jug.  When the oldest Darling son joined in by strumming his
washboard, Jed Clampett himself nearly had to be excused.  Everyone
looked up at the top of the stairs and gasped.  There she was.

---------

To describe it as "huge mounds of obvious boob rocketing out of her chest"
is to mistakenly call a German Shepard a Chihuahua.  Her dress was a 
combination of denim and leather that made a strange noise with every step 
she took.  Only her family and friends knew that there was always that 
strange noise whenever she walked.  Since Ellie Mae was a little
nervous, the squeaks from the gerbil were a little more insistent
today.  

The dress was constructed in a fashion that would have perplexed Frank
Lloyed Wright.  There were non-load bearing supports, load bearing
supports, underwire supports, trussels, bustles, trestles, straps,
chains, zippers, links, chains, laces, braces, anchors and more too
strange to recognize.

As she entered, everyone stood up.  And every member of every member of
both clans stood at full attention.

Granny was quite proud.  She knew the possum renderings she had given
Ellie Mae allowed her to wear the dress without slipping out or it rubbing
anything the wrong way.

Dash's family sat on the right half of the room, and beamed proudly.
Dash had certainly caught himself a real live one (which would greatly
reduce the complaints the neighbors had) and they were all looking
forward to the traditional Clampett reception afterwards.  Nobody
could HELP but notice how excited Aunt Hattie was about the reception.
All 355 pounds of her got so sweaty and flatulent when she was
excited, that people gave her another 2 chairs' worth of space around
her on this occasion.  Granny just rolled her eyes when she heard the
buzzing mass that was Aunt Hattie farting like a chain saw.  She had
given her dried gizzard poultice for it on many occasions.  Hattie
didn't know what a poultice was used for, so she ate it on buttered
toast. 

Miss Jane -- always the bridesmaid, never the bride -- waited loyally
at Ellie Mae's side.  The latex underpants were sweatier than she had
thought, and they started to itch after a while.  She would have just
removed them, but that would spoil the surprise she had for later.

Gomer delighted all with a few selections from the light opera
"Naughty Marietta" while Howard assisted him with some of the high
notes by painfully manipulating the contents of his scrotum.  

After his song, he unsheathed his marine sword, stood at attention,
saluted the happy couple and then limped off the podium.  Andy leaned
over and whispered to Aunt Bea, "Amazing how that boy could sing in
such a relaxed way the whole time, yet still be tense enough not to
let the sword drop onto the floor.  Mmmm MM!"  "Oh An-deee" Aunt Bea
poo-pooed back with a wave of her hand.  Even Andy didn't understand
that that translated to: unless you see a pickle roll out from under
my dress today, Gomer'll have to do a lot more than that to impress
me.

Opie and Howard had their heads bowed and were quite emotional.  If
one didn't know better, one would think they were quietly crying or
sobbing to themselves.  If one didn't know better.  Or if one didn't
hear their giggles.  Or hear them mutter something about not "crossing
streams."  Aunt Bea smiled and realized she might have found herself a
new babysitter.  Maybe one for Opie too.

Barney sat at the back of the room.  He had just finished ticketing
every car parked in the driveway.  While he'd have a hard time seeing
and hearing the ceremony, he was the first one to snatch a quick feel
as the bride walked by.  He was quite respectful, only giving the
traditional good-luck honk as she walked by.  She wiggled her hips
seductively as she passed.  Granny was right: it's quite a bit of fun
to lead him on.  If she had some of Sue's training and quick reflexes,
she might have been able to do more, but she was now a few more rows
down.  As she passed by the Darling boys, it was like a scene from
Night of the Living Dead.  As they were groping her, it occurred to
her that they should be on stage playing.  Then she realized the were!
They were merely taking turns, doing their best to fulfill their duty
as the band while upholding the tradition of the 'last feel.'  She was
touched by their gestures.  Repeatedly.

As the preacher stopped groping Ellie Mae and opened his bible, those
in attendance sat down.

"Deerly b'luvvid, we air gathered here tiday tuh witness th' joinin'
of Ellie Mae Clampett with this here Dash feller."

"Now Dash, do you promise to keep th' girl happy, fed, dressed when
she wants to be, and well-stocked with farm animals?"

Seemed like a stupid question to Dash.  Of COURSE he did, otherwise he
wouldn't be here now WOULD he?  Dash supressed the misplaced anger
about his slightly mutilated pubic region, adjusted his gauze patches
and answered the preacher's question.

"I pledge that I do, in front of all these people."

"Now Ellie Mae, do you promise to keep Dash happy?  Do you promise to
entertain his friends, 'n rassle his enemies?"

"Yep!"

"It's done, then.  Y'all git on out and enjoy Beverly Hills fer a
spell.  Jed tells me the family wants to sit and rest a spell first.


Chapter 4: The Big One

There were several traditions unique to a Clampett wedding.  The most
notable are the lack of best man and the group reception afterwards.
However, as weddings tend to be a bit stressful, it became traditional
to have a little break between them and the reception.  Plus, that
gives the workers a chance to add the finishing touches to the pit.

Jed was relieved.  The ceremony was as beautiful as he could have
hoped.  Yet, it brought up some memories that made him glad that
he'd have some time to himself.

As he walked towards the side of the house, away from the several
clusters of people that were mulling about, Mr. Darling silently
joined him by his side.

"Hoo doggie.  I couldn't have asked for a better band," Jed began,
though his cheerful tone was a little forced.

"No sir, Mr. Clampett.  While I appreciate the thought, I...  well,
I've never been one for speeches.  Sometimes I think I'm the quietest
one of our clan.  But...well, I...I wanted to give...show you
something."

Jed gave him a slow, curious glance, and Mr. Darling pointed towards
his truck.  They both had been walking that way anyway.

"Paw?  How come if you tickle yourself under your arm or on your feet,
it doesn't work?  But if you tickle other places, it still doesn't
make you laugh, but it makes you do something else?" Opie asked.

Andy was a little too distracted to answer Opie.  As soon as Aunt Bea
walked over to talk to Aunt Hattie to compare recipes, Andy started to
move slowly towards Barney.  He couldn't put his finger on it, but
there was something different about his deputy.

"Crowd dispersing nicely.  No unlawful demonstrations." Barney said
curtly.

Andy had dealt with Barney's Law and Order persona before, but there
was something else.  He didn't want to push things before he knew what
he was dealing with, so he decided to cautiously approach the subject.

"Barn?" he began.  "Well I, I see you covered your rounds pretty
thoroughly," he said, pointing towards the practically empty citation
book on Barney's belt.

"Had to issue citations.  They were violating the law, Sheriff."  He
stopped for a moment, as if lost in a daze and then continued, "Why
one vehicle alone was cited for over two dozen violations."  He
shuddered involuntarily for a moment.

Upon reaching the back of the truck, Jed and Mr. Darling were so
caught up in their own thoughts that neither noticed the 27 bright
orange slips of paper on the dashboard, amid shards of broken glass.

"Mr. Clampett," Mr. Darling began, with his usual formality, "Why, our
two families go back a long way.  It makes me proud to be at little
Ellie-Mae's wedding.  Almost as proud as when my own daughter got
married."

"Oh...I remember that one.  And a fine ceremony it was," Jed added.

"Yes, sir, your whole clan was there for that one.  Why...even the
Mrs."  Mr. Darling couldn't help but take his hat off as he mentioned
her name.  "And I reckon, that was the last time that you..." his
voice tapered off.

"As I recall, that was the last time I had seen yourn," Jed confirmed.

"Well," Mr. Darling said as he climbed into the back of the truck and
motioned for Jed to follow, "I...I figured...as a father of the bride
it'd only be right that you..." again, words failed him.  Instead, he
pulled the tarp away from a large burlap sack that was in the truck
and he opened the top and let Jed look in.

Down and up, down and up, down and up, Jed's eyes darted back down to
the sack and up to Mr. Darling.  Slowly, a smile started to creep
across his face, and his eyes seemed to twinkle.

"Hoooo-WEEEEE!  Now you ain't kidding, are you?" Jed asked, but he knew
his old friend's gift was genuine.  "Well now, I don't know about you,
but I ain't much for setting about after a wedding.  And I think I
know exactly what we need and where it is.  If you can give me a
hand," he stopped for a moment, to make sure he wasn't misinterpreting
this gesture, "that is, if'n you'd like..."

"Why Jed, I'd be honored," Mr. Darling said, calling him by his first
name.

"Law breakers.  That's what they are.  Lawbreakers."  Barney had
recounted 24 of the violations on the Darling's vehicle and seemed to
be getting more and more upset.  Small beads of sweat appeared on his
forehead, and he seemed to have a small tic and shudder every now and
then.  Andy thought it was possible that Barney had mistakenly
wandered downwind of Floyd, but he wasn't exhibiting any of the other
classic symptoms.  He had taken to spinning the chamber on his
revolver.  At most, there'd only be one bullet, at least that's the
most that Andy ever let him have at a time.

"And THEN they had no wiper for me to put the citations on.  I wrote
another citation for that."

"Where'd you put them Barney?" Opie asked with enthusiam.

"On the dashboard," he replied coldly.

"I take it they had their doors unlocked?" Andy asked.

"Huh?  Oh...I don't know...didn't check."

Andy decided to take a different tack.  "And how did you gain access
to the offending vehicle to serve the citiations, Deputy?"  Andy
asked.  Somehow, he knew Barney would still respond to authority.

"Shot out the windshield.  Had to cite them for that too.  Fucking
mess, glass all over the place.  A hazard to drive."

"Why Jed, I don't believe I've never been to this end of the house,"
Mr. Darling said.

"Oh...this used to be the master bedroom.  Don't get much use these
days...hasn't since...well, for quite a few years.  We still keep it
up though," Jed replied, as they entered the large, dimly lit room,
and placed the sack down near the large canopy bed.

"That's just 26.  You said there were 27 tickets Barney.  What was the
27th?" Opie asked with glee.  Almost immediately, you could hear the
"oooof" as he hit the ground, rear end first.  Anyone who was not
looking would've missed the lightning quick backhand blow that Barney
delivered.  The fact that he used the butt of his gun made it worse.
The fact the Opie's finger were up his nostrils made it even worse, as
he'd have a hard time grabbing his dick with two fingers in a cast.

Apparently Barney had been completely oblivious to it all.  But he was
now sweating profusely.  "It.  It was there.  In the back of the
truck.  They had It there."

"Now fair is only fair," Jed began.  "I'd as soon do without, than if I
couldn't provide for my own friends."

"You don't mean to say," Mr. Darling could hardly finish the thought.
"I mean, if'n you don't have an objection, why, I'd be honored."

And they both reached for their belts.

"What is this 'It' you're talking about, Deputy?" Andy said, in his
official tone.  Something was definitely bothering Barney.  Besides
the fact that he had pistol whipped Opie and shot off a couple of
rounds into a nearby cluster of people, Andy could tell that Barney
had something on his mind that was bothering him that he needed to
talk about.  Barney just quietly reloaded his revolver again and
sweated.  Andy was more concerned for his loyal deputy than the fact
that Barney had stashed extra bullets somewhere on his scrawny little
person.

Finally he snapped the chamber shut and commenced to spinning it
again.  "IT!  You know.  It!  You saw It!  That bag!  That big burlap
sack!  It was in the back of their truck!"

Andy remembered the bag that the Darlings had with them, but he hadn't
seen the contents.  As a matter of fact, he had had no desire to see
the contents, which was why he had delegated the job of loading it to
his deputy.  While Andy had thought about the sack, Barney had picked
off yet another two of the Darling boys and a scrawny looking
henpecked little man that was standing next to Aunt Hattie, presumably
Uncle Percy, Hattie's husband and half-brother.  As he fell to the
ground, most of Dash's family looked over towards Barney and tipped
their hat.  It was the kindest thing anyone ever did to old Percy,
since Doc Parsons had injected novocaine into Percy's groin on the
night before he went on his honeymoon with Hattie.

"Buh whah waz eeen duh sak Bahnee?" Opie said as he climbed to his
feet again, undeterred, even though his schnoz had swollen to the size
of Jimmy Durante's famous honker.

It was like an electric shock hit Barney.  He gasped, pupils dilated,
dropped his revolver (which shot his foot, though he didn't flinch),
and said, "What was in it?  What was in it?"

And at that precise time, The Event occurred.  While calling it "The
Event" is the most accurate description, it really was the last of a
series of events that culminated with the final event.

There were signs during the last few minutes, but few, other than
perhaps Granny had noticed.

The pack of dogs in the yard started madly barking.  Then almost
immediately, started yelping in fear as they ran away.  A flock of
birds flew from the nearby palm trees (including the palm tree out
front which was now fully upright again, bigger than ever) and
darkened the skies for a moment, with their shrill cries echoing
throughout the wealthy neighborhood.  Ellie-Mae's chimp went
completely nuts.  It tore off its diaper and started masturbating
wildly, with fur flying everywhere.  Just as it reached its climax,
spewing on more of the guests, it tumbled backwards and fell down into
the pit, screaming and spewing all the way down.  Two of the workers
that had been preparing it for later looked at each other and then
decided that it'd only help things down there.

Those familiar with earthquakes would have noticed the ground shaking,
glasses rattling, foundations creaking, plaster cracking.  The
rumbling increased as there was an almost palpable tension in the air
that made it feel like some viscous fluid.

And then there was The Bellow.  A low rumbling noise that just kept
increasing.  The windows in the upstairs bedroom blew out, along with
the wood in the frame that had held the window in place.  A
half-second later, another two windows were blasted out, followed by
every other window and door in the house.  The rumble had become a two
tone wailing roar that kept increasing in intensity.  The sound of
cracking bones could be heard and a 50 mph gust front of wind knocked
down those that were left standing.  Electric power lines snapped,
releasing into a shower of sparks and tranformers exploded into a ball
of light and a thunderous clap.  Several gas lines in the neighborhood
detonated into balls of fire as well.

Yes, the signs were there for those who noticed, but few were prepared
for the event.  For after all the signs, the one remaining Darling boy
standing knee-deep in a pile of debris, looked up towards the gaping
holes in the wall that was the master bedroom and uttered a single
word:

"Maw?"

His wasn't a look of disbelief - he had helped load her into the
truck, so he HAD to know why she was there.  He just wanted to make
sure she was all right.  As he scrambled out of the wreckage that had
fallen on him, he looked up one more time before darting into the
house and scrambling upstairs.

Andy knew the Darlings got into some strange things in their neck of
the woods -- especially during long winters.  Now he finally knew
what, or *who*, they were into.  Nothing like keeping it in the
family.  Andy also knew now why Jed and Mr. Darling never joined in
the festivities during the bachelor party -- they were saving
themselves for their wives.  Andy hadn't yet realized that a little
wife-swapping had just transpired.

Barney had been snapped out of his faint by The Event.  He scrambled
ot his feet and just stared into the biggest hole in the side of the
house.  Andy saw Barney's gun lying on the ground and relaxed just a
little.  He followed Barney's gaze up to the hole, saw a dry,
withered, and very dead hand visible just over the edge of the bed,
and realized that Barney was seeing the same thing he was.  Andy
realized that Barney had just figured it out just when Barney figured
it out.

"NOOOOooOOooOOooOOooOOooOO!"  The falsetto wail made Andy whirl around
just in time to see Barney running toward the front gate of the
Clampett mansion, holstering his gun as he ran.  He was already a few
yards from the front gate.  He was making tracks as fast as his skinny
little legs would carry him.  The pain of his gunshot wounded hadn't
registered just yet.  He wasn't even limping.  For the briefest of
moments, Andy didn't know what to do.  He stopped reaching for the
keys to the squad car when he saw Granny, doctor bag already in hand,
motion to Jethro to get the truck started.  It was up to Granny and
Jethro to fetch Barney before someone actually got hurt.  Andy
realized it was just as well.  He had his hands full here anyway.

Some folks had already stacked the dead Darlings in the back of the
truck.  It turned out that two of them had played possum when Barney
started shooting, and another of them was only wounded.  That left
Cletus as the only Darling boy that was actually dead.  Since he was a
Darling, someone passed a polished spoon under his nose, just to be
sure.  Mr. Darling was gonna be mad, because Cletus was the guitar
player in the band.

Aunt Hattie looked up at the master bed visible through the hole in
the side of the house, saw the withered hand, looked down at a very
dead Uncle Percy, got a faraway look in her eyes, and slowly smiled.
She carefully scooped him up and headed inside.  Her life would be so
much simpler now!

Jed and Mr. Darling swapped strong, manly handshakes common among
folks from the hills.  Then they proceeded to get dressed and take
care of their respective wives.  They each had developed their own
procedure for redressing their wives and getting all the broken pieces
back together, and they each started their routine without a word
passing between them.  Mr. Darling was quite surprised at how rough
Jed had been with his little missus.  Good to see that city life
hadn't sissified him any.

It was finally time to crank up the band and git to business!  As
night fell in Beverly Hills, the Darlings had Andy sit in on guitar to
replace Cletus, and they started picking and grinning!  Once they
decided who had the biggest booger, they started playing.  

Mr. Darling handed out his special moonshine to the crowd, and it was
quickly consumed.  He was damn lucky he had enough to give out, since
he had to use a cupful in place of gasoline when the old truck tank
nearly ran dry outside of Phoenix.  Good thing there was some gasoline
still in the tank when he dumped it in.  The gas cut the octane of the
moonshine down to levels that the engine could handle.  They didn't
have to refuel for nearly 300 miles after that. 

Floyd kept offering some of his stash to guests.  They all politely
and wisely turned him down. 

Barney was harder to catch than Granny had anticipated.  She and
Jethro finally caught up with him near the edge of the posh little
Beverly Hills neighborhood where they lived.  Once she caught him, she
hog-tied him and had Jethro hold him upright.  She did a little
strip-tease for Barney, hoping to convince him that not all old folks
were dried up and dead like he had just seen.  It was all in the name
of doctorin' that she did this -- it was for his own good.

Barney had seen some pretty nasty things as deputy in a small town.
Once, after spending 72 hours in his cell, Otis sobered up and
mentioned finding a body in a well.  Andy made Barney go to the bottom
of the well (lowering him down head-first), until he came face to face
(or whatever was left) with the Hoskins girl that had disappeared
earlier that month.  That had left Barney shaken up for weeks.  But
now, he would've given anything to be able to hide down at the bottom
of the well with the partially decayed remains of Susie Hoskins.

But that was not to be.  Granny's tits have been adequately described
before.  Unfortunately, they look even WORSE close up, when all the
thick little hairs growing out of the moles are visible.  Fortunately,
Barney passed out when, after doing a lap-dance for Barney, she placed
her feet on poor Barney's shoulders and let him stare into the abyss
(and indeed, he learned that the abyss stares back).


By the time Granny and Jethro got back to the house, the party was in
full swing.

----------------

Andy sat in with the Darlings and quietly played a song with the boys.
A crowd started to gather round him as he sang:

  "Oh, you get a bottle and grab my pole, honey,
   Oh, you get a bottle and grab my pole, baby,
   You get a bottle and grab my pole, 
   Ram it way up my bung hole,
   You get a bottle and grab my pole, honey."
   
Jed stopped by and wanted to remind everyone that the main part of the
festivities would be commencing directly.

"Uh, Jed?"  Andy said, while still quietly strumming.  "Finger," and 
pointed towards just under the brim of Jed's hat.  

Jed looked puzzled for a moment, until he removed the finger that had
been lodged in his hair.  He paused a moment and let out a happy whistle,
"hooo doggie...lookie at that there ring, ain't she a beauty!  Why, I 
expect that this here belongs to you," he said offering it to Mr. Darling.

"My boy'll take care of it."  Mr. Darling said, nodding towards his
vocal son.  As the son took the finger and headed out front towards
the truck, Mr. Darling added, "besides, it'll give me a break from all
his jabbering."

"Paw!  Why is everybody mulling around like that, like when there's a
puddle of vomit in the middle of the cell and you can't tell if Otis,
Cletus, or Jimmy-Bob done it and no one's saying a thing?" Opie asked.

"Uh, now you see Opie, there's a REAL SPECIAL thing that's a coming
up a real soon.  And, well, everyone's got to get ready for it in
their own way."  Andy began, still quietly strumming his guitar.  
A couple of people nearby seemed to edge a little closer, as if to 
get within earshot.  Most of the folks from Mayberry had only heard
rumors about the Clampett's wedding festivities.  Andy had been an
eyewitness, on two occasions (although one only involved the Darlings,
their clan and the Clampett's are so close that a similar celebration
ensued).  Everyone hoped Opie would ask the inevitable question.

"Paw?"  Opie began again, apparently not completely satisfied with
the previous answer.  "If you wipe yourself in the bathroom and fart
when your hand is still up there, will your bellybutton whistle?  John
Paul Jones says that..."

"AW JUST TELL THE BOY WHAT A CLAMPETT PIT-STYLE CLUSTER-FUCK IS LIKE!"

Andy stopped strumming as everyone turned their head and stared at
Goober, newly-arrived from Mayberry.  He certainly lived up to his
name.  Anticipation had gotten the best of him and he could no longer
wait for Opie's round-about way of getting there.  The attention
didn't seem to bother him (it never did).  He looked at Andy, then
Opie, then around the crowd, and back at Andy, and said, "Well?" as if
he spoke for everyone (which, basically, he did).

Andy looked back down at his guitar and commenced his quiet strumming
again.  Everyone could see that Andy was getting ready to tell a tale.

"Well, I think you're right on that account, Goober.  I brought the
boy with me knowing full well what we'd be getting into.  I figured
it'd do him some good...and give his hands a rest."

Opie looked at the two fingers of his right hand that were taped
together with a splint and was oblivious to any other meaning.

"Now Opie, you know how there're these two special people at a
wedding, the bride and the groom (that'd be Ellie Mae and Dash).  And
how they's no best man, on account of Dash having best fit that title.
And you know how they ... love each other.  Well, you see...they sort
of have to, um, prove it.  There's this kind of competition.  The goal
is for Ellie Mae and Dash to come together," Andy looked up for a
moment and realized his comment had gone over the heads of all
present.  Nonetheless, he continued, undeterred.  "Now, just about
everyone else...and I do mean just about EVERYONE ELSE will try
to...well, not stop them, but just...make them work up a little sweat
trying to get to each other.  Since it's a happy occasion, everyone is
kind of a little...happy."

"But why a pit?" asked Opie, finally echoing the question hanging on
everyone's mind.

"MMMMMMMMMmmmmmmmmmm mmmmmmmMMMMMMMMM!" Andy gave his patented Ritz
Cracker head shake of approval and said, "well I think you'll figure
that out once things get started.  Now why don't you run along and get
ready.  You might as well put on some comfortable clothes your Aunt
Bea won't mind having to spend some extra time cleaning."  And with
that he gave Opie a gentle swat on his behind and sent him off.

"An-dy?" Goober asked, craning his neck and he took a step closer to
where Opie was.  "You said JUST ABOUT everyone else is in the...the
free-for-all.  Is there someone who ain't?"

"You know, Goober," Andy said with a sigh, "to tell you the truth, I
can't claim to really understand the whole thing.  The free-for-all at
the end is pretty pretty much what you'd expect.  But the part before
it...well, I can't claim to understand the scoring or exactly WHAT
they're trying to do.  But yeah...they used to use a pigskin, but then
they decided it was too cruel to the pig.  So they get someone to
volunteer as 'the pig.'  Their part is different, but...well, you'll
have to see if you can figure it out and then explain it to me."

About that time Rip arrived.  He walked out of the house, hunched 
over with both of his arms cradled under his chest, supporting an
object of significant weight.

"Paw..." Opie started to ask a question.

Andy had seen it coming the moment Rip walked out of the house.  "I
know, Opie.  You see...you know how when you broke your fingers, how
disappointed you were, since that'll slow down your...habit?  And you
know how even with all your fingers working, it still takes you a
couple minutes as a breather in between?"  Opie nodded his head,
thinking of how many times he spent minutes at a time (sometimes even
three) having to wait.  His paw had told him, 'no sense in smacking a
dead chicken, boy, give it a chance to catch its breath.'

Andy continued, "Well Rip, you know, he's gonna have himself a busy
old time, and he's can't sit around waiting.  Well, he's done got
himself hepped up on Granny's crawdads.  That'll keep him going for a
few hours non-stop.  Only drawback is that if he doesn't walk that
way, he's liable to trip over himself, and give himself a real pain."

Rip then used his dick to pole-vault down into the pit.

Ellie Mae had joined him at the opposite end of the pit and used Rip
as a fire-pole to slide down into the pit.  That was as close as
they'd be allowed to get for a while.  They exchanged knowing smiles
(and some bodily fluids) and walked to opposide ends of the pit.
Ellie had to admit that she was a little nervous.  She was concerned
that it was not cold enough down for effective use of her nipples, but
hoped she'd be able to remember some of the tricks that Sue had taught
her.

"Jeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeed" Granny's voice could be heard echoing
around from the front of the house.  A couple of dogs decided to fling
themselves down into the pit and take their chances there.  Everybody
looked down in awe as Rip warmed up on one of the old blue-tick
hounds.  He was baying toward the sky, almost like he was begging for
relief, and THEN the poor DOG started squealing and interrupted Dash!
Dash started baying again, and started back in on the unfortunate
hound.  The second hound ran straight at Ellie Mae and started begging
for a quick, Merciful death.

Granny started setting up her traditional doctorin' station near the
pit.  She obliged everyone by not setting it up too near the pit.  She
was politely told that everyone was afraid she would distract from the
main festivities.  In reality, nobody wanted to be busy in the pit and
accidentally see what she was doing.

Jethro turned the corner, with a large pole extended behind his
shoulder.  Hog-tied, Barney hung upside down from the pole with an
apple in his mouth.  His uniform was dirty and ripped and his eyes
were slightly glazed over and unfocused.  In fact, his entire body was
glazed over.  Apparently, Granny had gone through three mason jars
full of possum renderings to prepare him for the upcoming festivities.
There was nothing supporting the back end of the pole, but Jethro
didn't seem to mind.

Jethro walked over to one side of the pit, set the pole upright and
held it there.  Barney was still suspended off the ground by his hands
and feet. Jed looked over at Jed and said, "We'z all ready to go raht
he-yuh."

Jed was standing near the pulpit, looking around at the guests and
said, "Well now, if'n nobody has any objects to raise, I see no reason
not to commence this here celebration.  Jethro, boy, give that there
log a good old push, and everybody else, well, join in when you're
needed.  And I thank you all for coming."  Jed's eyes twinkled a bit
when he finished saying that. In a few minutes, a lot more than sly
comments would be going over people's heads.

Hanging upside down, Barney's head slowly pulled up to stare at the
point where his hands and feet were tied to the pole.  He turned and
looked over his back at the pit, and saw Ellie and Dash waiting at the
bottom of the pit, and then his eyes started to bulge out of their
sockets and the veins in his forehead throbbed frantically, as the
realization sunk in.  Andy had to smile; it was good to see Barney
back in his old spirits again.  He had been worried about Barney.  And
then Jethro gently pushed the pole over toward the end of the pit
where Ellie Mae was standing.  Barney toppled over and dropped into
the pit.  A wet <thup> sound could be heard as Barney hit the muddy
surface below.

Ellie Mae took the initiative and walked up to Barney.  She turned
the pole to point at Rip, let out a big old holler, and pushed the
pole with all her might, sending Barney and the pole sliding in the
mud down the length of the pit.

Rip realized that Ellie was playing seriously and he'd have to time it
just right.  About two seconds before Barney got to his end of the
pit, he faced the oncoming battering ram, squeezed his fists and
tensed the muscles in his body and exhaled.  Timing would be key.

At this point Barney had managed to turn his head and look in
the direction he was sliding.  He saw that he was approaching Rip
and that Rip wasn't moving, just standing there with an intense stare.  
Then everything seemed to go in slow motion.  An instant before 
the pole got there (for it extended several feet beyond Barney),
Rip spun around and extended his arms out to the side.  The 
impact jarred Barney so much that he wasn't sure what happened next.
However all the spectators could plainly see that Rip never even
FLINCHED.  Not when the pole hit him and wedged up his ass, not
when the momentum nearly knocked him over (however it never forced
him to step out of the lines, which would disqualify him), nor when
he clenched his sphincter muscles and BROKE the pole.  

At this point, it was best that Barney was still stunned from the
impact.  That way he wouldn't remember much about how Rip sent him
sliding back across the mud at, at least, three times the speed Ellie
Mae had, without ever laying a hand on him.  It was fortunate also
that Barney's septum wasn't deviated, allowing him to breathe through
his nose.

Ellie Mae know that this would be a key play for her.  She remembered
Sue's advice and remembered the day when she dove into the ceement
pond only to discover that unlike a real pond, the earth doesn't keep
it warm without its own heater.  She arched her back and took in a
large breath.

Fans of the Three Stodges will easily recognize the sound of getting
poked in the eyes.  However the cause of the sounds that followed made
most of the spectators turn away.

Having pretty much exhausted all the orifices on 'the pigskin' the
happy couple was about ready to demonstrate their love to each other
and everyone else present.  When all of a sudden, wafting through the
air could be heard:

"My bladder was full, I had to pee,
 So I left the house to look for a tree,
 I found the tree, and had a wee, 
 Now I came back and what do I see?
 THIS looks like a job for Ernest T!"

"Don't let him through folks, he could spoil everything!" Mr. Drysdale
said to all the spectators gathered around the outside rim of the pit.
His voice held a pouty rage of jealousy over sharing his newfound
friend.  He had no idea that people were actually HOPING that Ernest T
would show up.  Undaunted by the looks of confusion (he was used to
dealing with that), he said, "quickly everyone, join hands.  We'll
show him."  And with that, everyone around the the pit joined hands to
form one big circle, since no one had a good reason why they shouldn't
do that.

Ernest T only took that as more of a challenge.  He poked his head out
of a tree, and appeared to run down the tree trunk, barely missing a
step as he changed from the vertical to horizontal orientation.  Once
on the ground he picked up speed.  But instead of crashing through
this "red rover" mobius loop, he put on extra speed as he headed right
at Aunt Bea and Goober.  But instead of crashing through them, he
placed his hands on their shoulders and VAULTED over them, flying 20
feet or more through the air (somersaulting once) and landed on the
far side of the ring, right in front of Mr. Drysdale.  A mere inch or
two from Mr. Drysdale's face, Earnest T held his balance over the edge
by clamping his hands, suction-cup like, to the right breast of Miss
Hathaway and the left breast of Thelma Lou, who were right next to
Mr. Drysdale.  Even so, he still managed to somehow sneak his wacky
willie UNDER and BEHIND Mr. Drysdale and penetrate all this clothing.
Ernest T always had a strange way of showing his affection.

The old boy was a bit surprised and lost his balance.  Unfortunately,
Miss Hathaway and Thelma Lou seemed to be enjoying the groping grasp
of Ernest T to the point of distraction, as neither of them were ready
to support the weight of Mr. Drysldale and Ernest T.

After that, it could be described as either dominos or an old Busby
Berkeley big-screen musical.  Everyone was pulled into the pit,
forming a wall of people separating Ellie Mae and Rip.  They had gone
through worse together and wouldn't let that stop them, and those
extra crawdads would still keep Rip going for hours.

And thus, they consummated their marriage Pit Style, with one mass of
bodies.....

Having thus satisfied everyone else, Ellie Mae and Rip once again
found themselves next to each other.  They embraced but quickly
noticed a shadow falling across them and a large part of the pit.  It
was Aunt Hattie, standing at the edge of the pit, wearing a large sun
hat...and NOTHING ELSE.  This would be Rip's biggest test, as he could
feel her corpulence fighting all the extra crawdads he had left in
him.  He couldn't lose at this instant.  Aunt Hattie stepped up to the
edge and apologized for being late, and said that she and the husband
had just spent some quality time together.  Unfortunately they had to
cut it short due to an unexpected bout of spastic colon.  Getting to
the edge, she cut loose with what started as a piddly, snapping
firecracker fart, but continued non-stop for over 30 seconds until it
had built up to an enourmous, thunderous earthshaking fart; and
standing too close to one of Floyd's discarded but still lit doobies,
she became the fattest jet propelled vehicle ever powered by an
afterburner.  The rocket thrust sent her flying into the pit, however,
the fiery blast caused her to pass over Rip and Ellie Mae who resumed
their embrace and aimed her straight to the far end of the pit...right
at Barney.

Seeing the man who had made her newfound relationship with her husband
possible, she had nothing but gratitude to show him.  Gratitude and
layers and layers of sweaty fat.  After all, there were some things
her deceased husband could not provide -- even with Aunt Bea's
pickling recipe.  Accelerating towards Barney, she spread her arms and
legs and arched her back to prepare for his embrace and to give him
her special reward.

Barney, like a deer in headlights, was frozen with terror, as the
shadow grew around him.  He didn't know which scared him more -- this
sight or Granny's titties.

The instant before impact she began bellowing out a Wagnerian aria.

<Kaplooie!!!>

The End