Second Verse, Same As The First
Yeah, so my brother Johnnie has been hounddogging me to tell ya more about the childhood incident where I outed our neighborhood mailman, Mr. Martin, as a boozehound in my homemade newspaper The Goodyearpark Bugle. My dad conked the paper after that story broke and the mailman stopped carrying a bottle of hooch in his bag. So things were quiet for a few years after that.
I think I told you a version of this once before, but one day Mr. Martin sprayed our big black lab Sgt Pepper with some kind of mace. Sgt. Pepper was a good dog. He’d sit on the grass and not even bother a cat. So the mailman’s attack on him was too much for Johnnie and me. It was time to take the law into our own hands. We asked my father for two super-duper construction site Motorola walkie-talkies. The plan was to put one walkie-talkie on the roof above the mailbox and we’d position the other in the kitchen, which was our lookout. Using some fishing line, we rigged it so a spooky skeleton head would pop up out of the mailbox just as ol’ Mr. Martin came up the steps. Whoa Jackson! The mischief worked like a charm. The skeleton came up like a jack in the box and we boomed through the walkie-talkie at him, “How do you do, Mr. Martin?!”
Mr. Martin was so rattled he dropped the big leather bag and skedaddled down the front walk, probably headed for the nearest bar. We felt bad and grabbed the bag and ran down the street after him. Then we all started laughing like hell. Mr. Martin said, “I gotta give you boys credit, you really know how to pull off a prank.” And after that he started giving Sgt. Pepper dog biscuits. Hey, sometimes ya gotta do what ya gotta do.
Keep your dukes up.
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