Maybe it happens like this....A couple punk kids have sat on their asses all day playing X-Box and one says, "Dude! What are you doing Saturday night?"
"I dunno, what'd you wanna do?"
"I know. Let’s go up to Turkey Mountain and break some
glass. I have a whole crapload of empty Keystone Light bottles in my old man's
garage."
"Hell yeah man. That'd be bitchin, dude!"
But this glass actually looked really old, like maybe it had
been here for quite a while. Maybe the rains had washed the dirt away and this glass was
re-emerging after being buried for many years.
Maybe the conversation was more like this....A few country boys were sitting around and one says, "Say, Eli, what dost thou have planned for this Sabbath day afternoon?"
"I am not certain, Jebediah. Pray tell what dost thou want to do?"
"I know....let us gather together some fruit jars from Brother Thaddeus' barn and carry them hence to the hill that rises from the west bank of the Arkansas. From there, we will tote them up the hill and cast them upon the stones in the forest."
"I do not know if my Pa will approve of this activity, Brother Jebediah. I have my chores to attend to."
"I will come and help you finish with milking, and we can depart after we are through."
"Then I will go with thee."
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