FRUGAL AT LAST

“Hey, Sugar. I’ll be back later,” Billy Bob called as he headed out the door. “I’m gonna go buy me that new pick up.”

“Uh huh. What’s it gonna cost, babe?” Suzie Bob inquired.

“Only $16,500,” he nodded.

“Oooo, an’ how ya’ll gonna pay fer it?”

“I’z thinkin’ ’bout writin’ another bad check.”

“I dunno, Billy Bob. If you’re gonna write a bad check, I ‘spect you’d better not go over

$16, 200. You know, just to play it safe.”

“Suzie Bob, what would I do without you thinkin’ fer me?”

“Just one thing,” she added as an afterthought. “If’n theys to come and try to make good on yer bad check, you got any idee how you gonna pay fer it?”

“I’z thinkin’ to just kill yo mama and sell her double-wide,” he said regretfully.

“Well, we all gotta go sometime,” she concurred with resignation.

“Sugar, we’ll go out an’ burn some gas when I get home with the new truck.”

“I kin hardly wait.”

And they lived happily ever after inside the Beltway.

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