When I was a little girl my Grandpa would tell me stories about his life.
I ever tell you about the time in the war when me and ol' Chicken Legs Johnson wiped out a whole platoon of Jerries with naught but a tractor tire and a can of kerosene?
He could talk for hours about life in the good old days.
I remember the day I took your Grandma on our first date. We went to Smith's Ice Cream Parlor and shared a hot fudge sundae. Boy, Cassie was a sight back then.
But his stories were always the best on the days he forgot to take his pills.
That bitch Helen gone and shut herself up in the damn city and me and the boys couldn't get in. It was up to me to work it out, and that's when I knew we'd need the wooden bager.
