The Weenerman nods down the road, "Now for the important part, let’s rescue Rodney."
I shrug, given the choice of risking a Roughs full of tree snakes, or upright walking proto-sapiens, helping to fix the Rodney-mobile once again is about on the same page.
While walking down the road, the WeenerMan comments, "Now I can see why they invented cars, too much of this walking stuff could take years off of your life."
"Spoken by a true health afficianondo," I comment.
We come over a little rise, and there it sits in the little dip in the road, with the windows rolled down and everything, the RodneyMobile.
"That’s what I like about living in this Township," the Weenerman remarks as he boosts up the hood on the Rodney-car, "You can leave the windows rolled down, and no one messes with your car," he slips behind the wheel and turns the key. The windsheild wipers come on and the stereo starts blaring.
"Well, most of the time," the Weenerman remarks, and then checking the tape box goes on, "Hey somebody messed with my tapes!"
"Anything missing?" I ask scratching my head.
"No, not at all," then the WeenerMan scowls, "No, somebody left me a new Hank Jr tape!"
"Really? Left you a tape?" I’m surprised, "That can’t be all bad."
"Unless someone is casting dispersions upon my taste of country music!" the Weener-man scowls, "As a fan of Country music, I make it a habit to collect the classics," the Weener-Man brings his brows together, "And so my collection consists of Hank-the Early Years, Hank-the Formative Years, and Hank- the Lost Years, that’s classic material there!!"