My cup was still on the table. Finding that there was still warm coffee in the pot I filled the cup.”
–D.C. Adkisson (Trouble at Gregory Gulch)
Didn’t mean to put a scare into yuh, Pard. I was jist checkin’ the action of my shotgun. Smooth, nice and smooth, jist like the coffee I make. Say, why the grimace? Yuh know my coffee’s the best in the county! It’ll cure that riled up liver an’ soothe out yur irritated gizzard. Guaranteed to put hair on yur chin. Uh, but some have mentioned that yuh shouldn’t rub it in as it might take the hair off’n yur skin. Ha, I remember one o’ boy said it tastes like somethin’ yu’d sit in to remove a tattoo.
Well, I don’t rightly know ’bout that. I’m a-thinkin’ it’s mighty tasty. Why if’n some of those fools came an’ just a seat with us each Saturday we’d have them fixed right up about right an’ wrong. For sure, my coffee would jist soothe out the peskiness in their soul. I know, I know the good Lord done told us in His holy Word that yuh cayn’t argue with a fool, but if’n they would jist sit down, an’ take a few swallers of good strong coffee, maybe there’s still a chance for them to straighten out. The good Lord knows that the stuff they’re a-drinkin’–cinos, latte, and the like–ain’t goin’ to do them no good. Jist water down the flavor of good, strong, black coffee. Why I’d might even consider lettin’ them take a dab of sugar or honey to stir in.
Why’s the shotgun out? Well, Pard, I’m jist fixin’ to be ready. With stupidity and foolishness on the rise, I don’t want to be searchin’ for it should the need arise. Folks out there don’t realize, in fact, I’ll tell yuh the straight truth, they don’t even want to hear, that the real problem lies within each person’s heart–that problem is sin. But tell a fool that and they’ll jist mock yuh. Sometimes I’d like to slap them silly, but some are beyond that. Then I get to thinkin’, my mercy, they are playin’ with their eternal souls and don’t care a lick about it.
I’ve gone on too long, but my mercy, we drank that whole pot. Told yuh it was good stuff. Wait a minute. Are yuh foolin’ with me? There’s some hair missin’ from the top of yur hand.
Yuh be travelin’ light, be alert like the Holy Writ commands, and check yur cinch if’n yur goin’ to be ridin’.
Vaya con Dios.