Earl Squibbles Jr. absolutely loves being a country boy. Some might say he loves it a little too much.
“I’ll tell ya what, man,” Earl proclaimed, his thick southern drawl amplified by the dip wad of tobacco in his lip. “Ain’t no way you’ll ever catch me in the big city. Damn yuppies everywhere, traffic jams, more people bein’ yuppies. Don’t see us dirtying up the city, yet they still come out here to Stillwater, pollutin’ our precious air with their damn, un-American, electronic cars. Do I ever go to the city? Never. Not me, brother.”
The spring semester’s end in Stillwater means the coming of Calf Fry weekend. Although fun for an innumerable number of students, many true cowboys shake their heads in dismay.
“It’s sad, really,” Earl murmured woefully. “Everyone’s simply playin’ dress-up with our lifestyle. Thinkin’ that the country lifestyle’s all about fat lips and ER trips. They don’t get what it truly means.”
Laughing in the background was Earl’s pal, Pappy Gilmore, the true outlaw of this particular friend group. Amongst a crew of rednecks, Pappy’s city-slicker persona came as a stark contrast.
“First off, electric cars don’t pollute the air. I think that’s, like, the whole point,” Pappy shouted, giggling drunkenly on the muddy ground, “And, what about a bunch of ‘yuppies’ jackin’ your ’style’ makes you complain this much? Take it as a compliment, bruh.”
“I’m only friends with your Abercrombie-ass because you’re not a faker,” Earl responded defensively. “And, it’s about respect…you don’t see me faking this city shit.”
After graduation, Earl will start working at the local Stillwater lumberyard with his best friend, Jim Bean, whom shares Earl’s detest for city folk.
“I mean, would you just look at this broad?!” Jim shrieked. “She’s wearing ostrich skin boots! You know there ain’t no how, no way that girl has ever even seen a backwoods-ostrich up close and personal!”