So Raymond Burr comes to my house for a late supper, late on account of I got home late from work and one of the cows whose heads’ I bash in was quite uncooperative. First (let me tell you) he comes strolling up the sidewalk and then strolls like a bowshot right up the steps and onto my front porch. I say ‘hey Burr where’s your wheelchair anyhow?’ He gives me a nasty bowshot look and says (I mean really, he says) ‘that was on the television show, I’m quite able-bodied in real life’. I says ‘I bash in cows’ heads with a big sledgehammer, for a job, I mean, that’s what I do when I’m not here at home’. He gives me one of those TV actor looks and says ‘so what’s for supper?’ I look down at him, on account of he’s still on the second step, and say ‘hey man, ease up I had a fuck of a day’. So Burr says ‘you must put a lot of cows in wheelchairs?’ So I invite him in and we eat Swiss steak with boiled potatoes and creamed corn and warm Doctor Pepper, on account of my refrigerator is on the blink.
