Bean Mountain

Mornin Jerry.
Mornin.

Them pigs Ricky run off has shown up agin.
Where at?
You know up air
the foot a Bean Mountain
overlookin the river?
That acreage Bowater sold to that bunch from
what was it? Cincinnati?
Yep.
Well, they are rootin it all to pieces.

Pretty up air. Me and Irene dug sang in them woods.
Yessir. Good country for pigs.
It is that.
Aah. Whole thingll be posted fore ye know it.
I reckon.
Work crew up air layin in a golf course.
No shit?
Yea verily I shit you not. Nine holes.

Heh. Pitchur them hawgs snufflin a golf green.
Ricky said they was prowlin his corn pastures.
Least till he come out with a shotgun.
Ricky shot at em?
Run em right off. Said they was
nosin around of a night.
figurin the lay of the land.

And son, theyve done hired a all-Mexican crew
puttin down that sod.
That aint the only grass theyll be growin.
I heard there was whole trucks haulin quicklime
t sweeten up th soil. Bulldozers everywhar.
The law. Bulldozin
Bean Mountain
for a gat dam golf course.

How many houses they buildin?
Paper said a hundred. Big uns.
Sauners and walk in closets.
On how many acres?
Nine hundred and some
not all of it buildable.

We oughtta do somebody a favor.
Whats that.
Finish what Ricky shoulda done.
Ride up air one mornin
sit on one a them bulldozers
wait on a hawg to come along
and shoot him between of his eyes.

Well. Hear bout the woman needed hep with breakfast?
Aint heard thatn.

Woman needed hep with breakfast.
Asked the chicken and the pig for hep.
Chicken said hep y sef to eggs.
Pig didnt say nothin.
Knowin the only hep he could give was
a piece of his ass.

Heh. Thats a goodn.
Piece of a pigs ass.