From “Rebus Flatbush’s Famous Fables & Folk-Tales from the American Mid-West” ...
(Any similarity to actual persons, either living or deceased, or to this item from the Daily Mail is purely coincidental)
ONCE UPON A TAHM, there wuz a li'l feller by the name of Tomothy Cruise an' he wuz a purty li'l feller too, thass fer sure. All the ladies wanted to have their wicked, wicked ways with purty li'l Tomothy (an' sum a' the fellas too by gosh, but ah ain't a’ goin' down that manky ol' tunnel a' confusion raht at this moment, no sirree), but purty l'il Tomothy was a mite more innerested in a funny ol' religion that wuz alls about holdin' tin cans in yer hands so as ta get yerself raht in tha head.
Now ... this funny ol' religion was put tagether a whiles back by a funny ol' sailor fella by the name of Elron Bubba who useta write stories 'bout flyin' saucies and li'l green fellas from outta space ‘til he figgered that that weren't no proper way fer a grown man to make a decent livin’, so he thought he may's well start hisself a religion on account a’ all the other religions din't have no truck with holdin' onta tin cans an' such, an’ they weren’t no li’l green fellas from outta space in ‘em either ... they was all abouts sum fella from way back who git hisself nailed to a cupple a’ chunks of two-be-four, an’ by golly, that weren’t no fun to be readin’ on, Bubba reckoned ... Yep, Ol' Bubba lahked his tin cans and li’l green fellas a whole lot more, thass fer sure, so he set about makin’ hisself a new church ... the Church of Tincanology ... an’ purty li’l Tomothy Cruise found out about it sometahms after Bubba had passed on, and reckoned it sounded lahk a good idea to get hisself raht in the head, so he read up some books on it, an’ joined hisself up ...
Anyhoo ... Li'l Tomothy had bin grabbin' onta those tin cans for about a decade or so an' figgered hisself mostly raht in the head, when a few of the folks in Ol’ Bubba’s Church of Tincanology thought it maht be a good idea that he get hisself a lady to grab onto fer a change ... see, they figgered that purty li’l Tomothy with his purty li’l face could pull ‘em some wimmen folk inta the Church an’ they could ‘pregnate ‘em wif some a’ the frozen spuzz from Ol’ Elron they’d been keepin’ aside so’s they could have ‘emselves some li’l Elron’s to fawn on an’ follow about ... also, they was runnin’ real short a' tin cans at the tahm too ...
Now ... Li’l Tomothy may ‘ave bin a purty fella, but he wuz only about 2 an’ a half feet an’ one inch tall an’ sum a’ those wimmen folk he wuz hangin’ ‘round wif din’t stay fer long on account a’ how he wuz more inclahned to wanna play wif tin cans than take to pokin’ about their lady bits as much as they’d ‘ave lahked ... One a’ these ladies, who went by the name a’ Nikky Pigman, why, she was as tall an’ pale an’ scrawny as Tomothy was short an’ dark an’ stumpy an’ even standin’on a step-ladder that li’l feller couldn’t so much as scratch at her lady bits, an’ dang if those bits a’ hers weren’t just itchin’ fer some scratchin’ action after a whiles, so ‘ventually she tol’ ‘im where he could put his tin cans in no uncertain terms an’ she ran off an’ found herself a gee-tar playin’ feller to get scratched at by ...
But then, one day, Tomothy met a cute li'l gal by the name of Cattie Ohms, an' he tol' her again an' again an' again an' over an' over an' over all about holdin' onta tin cans an’ the Church of Tincanology an’ Ol’ Elron Bubba ‘til her brain fair did rattle with confusion an’ afore she knew it she’d agreed ta marry the li’l feller an’ ‘ave his babies ... But li’l Tomothy had hisself no intention a’ pokin’ ‘bout her private bits, no sir, he an’ the Church had ‘emselves another plan altogether ...
So’s one naht ... he waited ... an’ he waited ... an’ he waited, ‘til poor young Cattie had fallen fast asleep, an’ he went to the icebox an’ got hisself a big ol’ blob of Ol’ Elron Bubba’s frozen spuzz that the Church of Tincanology had given him a whiles back and which he’d bin keepin’ hidden behind the turkey gizzards fer jes’ this very moment, an’ he put that spuzz on a turkey baster an’ crept toward Cattie’s sleepin’ self so’s he could stick that spuzz inta Cattie where it could do what spuzz does when it’s stuck there ...
But ... as li’l Tomothy moved hisself forward, he hadn’t noticed that some a’ that spuzz had melted a bit an’ had dripped onta the floor an’ jest as he’d got hisself real close to Cattie, he slipped on some a’ that melted spuzz and went scootin’ across the floor, bangin’ his head smack inta the wall so hard that he bounced back the other way an’ onta the so-fee with such a mahty force that one a’ the so-fee springs popped raht through the so-fee cover and raht inta his neck where it ripped his neck innerds to stringy red bits a’ spurtin’ flesh an’ killed li’l Tomothy Cruise in a instant.
Whereupon, poor liddle Cattie Ohms woked herself up of a sudden an’ looked over to see the tiny li’l body of li’l Tomothy Cruise layin’ dead on the floor, a big ol’ turkey baster with meltin’ sailor spuzz on it still in his hands, an’ she realised then what he’d a’ bin goin’ to do to her all this tahm an’ thanked her lucky stars that she had escaped his foul intentions ...
Now, even though she survahved, from there on in, from that day to this, purty liddle Cattie Ohms still can’t hold on to so much as a tin o’ beans without a shiver a’ creepin’ up her spine, whiles at Christmastime, no matter how loud an’ how long her mama hollers at her, there ain’t no way in this world or the next one that she’s a’ gonna help out stuffin’ no turkey.
No, sir. Uh-uh.
(Any similarity to actual persons, either living or deceased, or to this item from the Daily Mail is purely coincidental)
ONCE UPON A TAHM, there wuz a li'l feller by the name of Tomothy Cruise an' he wuz a purty li'l feller too, thass fer sure. All the ladies wanted to have their wicked, wicked ways with purty li'l Tomothy (an' sum a' the fellas too by gosh, but ah ain't a’ goin' down that manky ol' tunnel a' confusion raht at this moment, no sirree), but purty l'il Tomothy was a mite more innerested in a funny ol' religion that wuz alls about holdin' tin cans in yer hands so as ta get yerself raht in tha head.
Now ... this funny ol' religion was put tagether a whiles back by a funny ol' sailor fella by the name of Elron Bubba who useta write stories 'bout flyin' saucies and li'l green fellas from outta space ‘til he figgered that that weren't no proper way fer a grown man to make a decent livin’, so he thought he may's well start hisself a religion on account a’ all the other religions din't have no truck with holdin' onta tin cans an' such, an’ they weren’t no li’l green fellas from outta space in ‘em either ... they was all abouts sum fella from way back who git hisself nailed to a cupple a’ chunks of two-be-four, an’ by golly, that weren’t no fun to be readin’ on, Bubba reckoned ... Yep, Ol' Bubba lahked his tin cans and li’l green fellas a whole lot more, thass fer sure, so he set about makin’ hisself a new church ... the Church of Tincanology ... an’ purty li’l Tomothy Cruise found out about it sometahms after Bubba had passed on, and reckoned it sounded lahk a good idea to get hisself raht in the head, so he read up some books on it, an’ joined hisself up ...
Anyhoo ... Li'l Tomothy had bin grabbin' onta those tin cans for about a decade or so an' figgered hisself mostly raht in the head, when a few of the folks in Ol’ Bubba’s Church of Tincanology thought it maht be a good idea that he get hisself a lady to grab onto fer a change ... see, they figgered that purty li’l Tomothy with his purty li’l face could pull ‘em some wimmen folk inta the Church an’ they could ‘pregnate ‘em wif some a’ the frozen spuzz from Ol’ Elron they’d been keepin’ aside so’s they could have ‘emselves some li’l Elron’s to fawn on an’ follow about ... also, they was runnin’ real short a' tin cans at the tahm too ...
Now ... Li’l Tomothy may ‘ave bin a purty fella, but he wuz only about 2 an’ a half feet an’ one inch tall an’ sum a’ those wimmen folk he wuz hangin’ ‘round wif din’t stay fer long on account a’ how he wuz more inclahned to wanna play wif tin cans than take to pokin’ about their lady bits as much as they’d ‘ave lahked ... One a’ these ladies, who went by the name a’ Nikky Pigman, why, she was as tall an’ pale an’ scrawny as Tomothy was short an’ dark an’ stumpy an’ even standin’on a step-ladder that li’l feller couldn’t so much as scratch at her lady bits, an’ dang if those bits a’ hers weren’t just itchin’ fer some scratchin’ action after a whiles, so ‘ventually she tol’ ‘im where he could put his tin cans in no uncertain terms an’ she ran off an’ found herself a gee-tar playin’ feller to get scratched at by ...
But then, one day, Tomothy met a cute li'l gal by the name of Cattie Ohms, an' he tol' her again an' again an' again an' over an' over an' over all about holdin' onta tin cans an’ the Church of Tincanology an’ Ol’ Elron Bubba ‘til her brain fair did rattle with confusion an’ afore she knew it she’d agreed ta marry the li’l feller an’ ‘ave his babies ... But li’l Tomothy had hisself no intention a’ pokin’ ‘bout her private bits, no sir, he an’ the Church had ‘emselves another plan altogether ...
So’s one naht ... he waited ... an’ he waited ... an’ he waited, ‘til poor young Cattie had fallen fast asleep, an’ he went to the icebox an’ got hisself a big ol’ blob of Ol’ Elron Bubba’s frozen spuzz that the Church of Tincanology had given him a whiles back and which he’d bin keepin’ hidden behind the turkey gizzards fer jes’ this very moment, an’ he put that spuzz on a turkey baster an’ crept toward Cattie’s sleepin’ self so’s he could stick that spuzz inta Cattie where it could do what spuzz does when it’s stuck there ...
But ... as li’l Tomothy moved hisself forward, he hadn’t noticed that some a’ that spuzz had melted a bit an’ had dripped onta the floor an’ jest as he’d got hisself real close to Cattie, he slipped on some a’ that melted spuzz and went scootin’ across the floor, bangin’ his head smack inta the wall so hard that he bounced back the other way an’ onta the so-fee with such a mahty force that one a’ the so-fee springs popped raht through the so-fee cover and raht inta his neck where it ripped his neck innerds to stringy red bits a’ spurtin’ flesh an’ killed li’l Tomothy Cruise in a instant.
Whereupon, poor liddle Cattie Ohms woked herself up of a sudden an’ looked over to see the tiny li’l body of li’l Tomothy Cruise layin’ dead on the floor, a big ol’ turkey baster with meltin’ sailor spuzz on it still in his hands, an’ she realised then what he’d a’ bin goin’ to do to her all this tahm an’ thanked her lucky stars that she had escaped his foul intentions ...
Now, even though she survahved, from there on in, from that day to this, purty liddle Cattie Ohms still can’t hold on to so much as a tin o’ beans without a shiver a’ creepin’ up her spine, whiles at Christmastime, no matter how loud an’ how long her mama hollers at her, there ain’t no way in this world or the next one that she’s a’ gonna help out stuffin’ no turkey.
No, sir. Uh-uh.
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