As we progress, a truck churns down the road past us in the other direction. We hear the sounds of Hank through the open windows.
"Hank, Live at Gainesville," I comment.
"Pretty good," Twisty commends me, "But I didn’t know that Barry had become such a Hank afficiaonondo."
"He finally listened to reason," Weenerman says proudly.
"Barry, isn’t that the fellow who woke up one morning and found out that his girlfriend had run off with his truck and hound?" I ask.
"And then he listened to Hank," HM WeeenrMan explains, "Barry stayed up late watching John Wayne movies and playing a Hank record on his turntable set-up, fell asleep and played the entire hank-record."
"And when Barry woke up, he discovered that his girlfriend had come back, his truck was back and his racoon-chasing hound had come home?" I ask with slight skepticism.
WeenerMan shrugs, "You’ve got to understand Hank," he says.
Twisty smiles mischeviously, "Actually if you want to hear the rest," I nod and Twistiy continues, "Barry’s girlfriend was helping us out at the Burdock late, and then she got a call from her agent,"
"So she took off for the coast?" I inquire.
"No Silly," Twisty rolls her eyes, "Her agent called her and said there was a part in a commercial being shot locally, but they also needed to get a dog that would be certain to eat the dog-food brand sponsering the commercial."
"And so," I respond.
"And so the girlfriend knew that Barry’s hound eats lots of just about anything, so she clocked out and headed home," Twistine explains, "And by the time she got there of course, she discovered Barry was out shooting pool with you guys,"
"My usual night at billiards," Weenerman remarks, "Spent the entire night behind the eight-ball."
"She had driven his truck to work and had filled it with gas, the good kind from Chet’s, not the cheap stuff you guys run in your heaps," Twisty expounds, "So the girlfriend loaded up the dog, and headed off for the audition, barely got there in time, got the part too."
"Congratulations,’ I make a toast with my can of murky green pop.
"You’ve got to understand Hank," Weenerman repeats as he skips the toast and takes a swig of the murky green soda.
"So Barry’s hound appears nightly sometime during the Real Late Movie,’ Twistine explains.
"No wonder I haven’t seen it,’ I observe, "By the time the Real Late Movie comes on, I’m usually fast asleep."
"Resting up for another day’s worth of loafing and goofing-off," Twistine laughs.
"Hey, we take loafing and goofing off real serious in these here parts," Weenerman interjects.
"Really?" Twisty acts shocked to hear the news, "Well at any rate the girlfriend took her earnings,"
"And bought Barry a new truck?" I ask, "How nice."
"No, I fixed his old one with a can of the same stuff I use to keep Rodney going," the WeenerMan volunteers.
"That’s why Barry’s truck sounds funny,’ Twisty decides, then goes on, "Actually, she reinvested her earnings in furutes, like soybeans and pork-bellies, hedged her position, and came out of it with a real nice profit."
"Profit, that’s what’s left after you deduct your expenses," HM WeenerMan explains, "You can have your gross profit and your net profit."
"Very good," Twistine says with due surprise, "You’re getting to be quite the enteprenour!"
WeenerMan grins some and nods, "You’ve got to understand Hank."