Grampy comed over tonight wearin' a disguise, so I tole him, you's a day early, Grampy; Halloween ain't atill tomorrow! He sayed, I doesn't give a hang dang 'bout no Hallow-freakin'ween, Georgie. I don't want nobody to rekanize me on account a the mess what Clarence, that gallbladder of a barber have made a me. He were jus' apposed a give me a buzz cut like the young fellers gits; now look at my butts! Well, poor Grampy's butts beed pokin' out pinker than a fresh-spanked baboon. Oh... that do bees pretty short, Grampy, I sayed. But Momma all a time says what the only difference atween a good haircut an' a bad one bees six weeks, so... ya only gottsa be bareassed 'bout yous bare-ass for a little while, Grampy. Then I runned fast fast an' putted a blanket on the couch afore he sitted on it. Prawly gonna hafta have a blanket on that couch for a good six weeks, too, I figure.