Chapter One

          Jenny Rose stood at the kitchen sink of the run down looking mobile home, washing dishes. She was a mid-twenties, pretty girl with a blonde pony tail and flashing sky-blue eyes. Raising two kids, working full-time at Wal Mart and taking a correspondence course in court reporting was beginning to be a load for her. She was not in the best of moods this morning.

            Artie Ray stumbled into the kitchen in his boxers, scratching his belly and went to the refrigerator.

            "Morning, Babe," he mumbled in a sleepy voice. "You got up early this mornin'." He pulled the milk carton out and gulped down a big slug.

            "The kids were hollerin'. I'm surprised you didn't hear them."

            "Naw, I didn't hear nothin'."

            Artie moved up behind her and slipped his arm around her waist, pulling her close to his body. He nuzzled the back of her neck.

            "Why d0n't me and you go get back in the bed and fool around."

            "Damn it, Artie, that's all you think about. Leave me alone."

            "It ain't either! I think about work, fishin', huntin', lots of stuff. What's the matter with you this morning?"

            "The same thing that's the matter with me every mornin'. Every night too, for that matter. I want you to go see Dr. Jamison like we talked about."

            Oh, damn, are you still on that? Why are you so all fired, dead-set on me getting' spaded?"

            "It's spayed, Artie, and that's what you do to animals. What you need is a vasectomy."

            "Same thing. It's castratin' me no matter how you call it."

            "It is not! It is not castration, Artie. Get that out of your head. I showed you that pamphlet. You read it. You know what it is!"

            "Well, why don't you just go get your ‘lil ole tubes tied up in a pretty bow? How come me?"

            "Because it cost a lot more and it's much easier for you to do it. We talked about that, too. I think you're just flat out afraid."

            "Oh, bull. I ain't afraid of nothin', you know that."

            "Then why don't you go get it done? You know how much I want you to. I'm not havin' any more kids."

            "Well, damn, Jenny, I don't know. I got my reasons, though."

            Listen, Artie Ray Mortimer, the doc is not gay. Just because he's from up North and you saw him drink beer out or a glass once, doesn't make him gay."

            "Haw. So you say. That beer glass thing is a pretty good sign he is. You don't think I want some Yankee boy messing around with big Jim and the twins do you?"

            "Oh, you're impossible, Artie. Just impossible. Okay, have it your way," she said as she spun around and tossed the dish towel at him.

            "Let me tell you this! I'm on strike in that bedroom until you go get that done. You hear me? You're cut off, big boy."

            "Oh, come on Jen, you don't mean that. That ain't right."

            Jenny, with a stubborn expression on her face, said, "It's not right to fill up every room with kids either. Are you just dense, Artie Ray? You had two kids with Sara Lee, one with Becky Ann, and two more with Billie Jo. You and I have two! Do you see a pattern here?"

            "I, well, I guess so, but..."

            "But what? Are you singled handed trying to populate Rockmart, Georgia? Don't you think you've done your bit for our town? Four marriages and seven kids!"

            "Aw, I guess so, but, Billie Jo and I never got married; we just lived together."

            "Same thing," she blurted.

"Since you're so hot for me to get cut, I guess I don't have no choice."

            Jenny headed for the bedroom, telling him over her shoulder...

            "It's up to you. I've said my last on it. I'm on strike. Do what you want to!"

            She disappeared into the bedroom and Artie pulled a can of beer out of the fridge and plopped down on the couch.

            "Damn women! They get a silly idea in their heads and there ain't no reasonin' with them. "

            Suddenly, there is a loud thump on the trailer door and a dog growling.

            "Artie, Buck's got a mouthful of my jeans again. Will you call him off?" a voice shouted.

            "BUCK, STOP IT!" Artie shouted out. "Come on in, Joe Bob."

            Joe Bob Smith, Artie's cousin and running mate stomped in through the door.

            "Look what he done this time," Joe bob said, pointing to his ripped jeans. "You'd think he'd be used to me after all these years."

            "He just plain don't like you, Joe Bob."

            "I guess. What's up around here?"

            "Everything. Nothin'. Depends on how you look at it. Jen is all fired up again for me to get spaded. She won't let go of it."

            "Man, I know what you mean. Suzie Mae is all pissed at me, too."

            "What'd you do this time? Hey, while you're up, grab us a beer, will you?"

            "Sure." Joe Bob pulled two cans of beer from the fridge and tossed one to Artie. "I didn't do nothin', man. Me and Quentin went to old Mrs. Peterson's funeral the other day and burned a little rubber while we was in the funeral procession."

            "That's all?"

            "Yeah, it was movin' real slow and we was bored."

            "Didn't she get all bent out of shape at you last week, too?"

            "Yeah, that was because when we went to that church social I hit on that cute lil ole Teddie Jean Carson."

            "Damn, Joe Bob, she's our cousin!"

            "So?"

            "Boy, you are thick, ain't you?"

            Joe Bob slapped the coffee table and said, "Hey, I just noticed you got a new coffee table. Man, is it ever cool."

            Artie grinned and swelled with pride. "Ain't it? I got it down at the junk yard. It was a cable spool. I sanded and varnished that sucker."

            "Well, it's sure cool, man. I gotta start goin' down there and lookin' for stuff. I sure as hell ain't goin' back to that Salvation Army place no more."

            "Why not?"

            "We took our old mattress down to them to give it away. They wouldn't accept it. Said it was too beat up."

            "Man, they're getting' uppity down there."

            "Yeah, I got it from them around fifteen years ago. Now it ain't good enough for them no more."

            Jenny yelled from the bedroom, "Artie Ray, come get this greasy transmission out of the bath tub so I can bathe."

            Artie sighed heavily and stood. "Man, if it ain't one thing, it's another."

            He ambled off toward the bedroom leaving Joe Bob chuckling behind him.

Chapter Two

          Bubba Taylor, Junior Wetmore and Red McCall, the owner of Red's Saloon, were having a conversation at the worn and scared old bar.

            Red offered, "Slow today. If it weren't for you old boys, I wouldn't have no business at all."

            "Looks like you'd shell out a free beer once in a while for us regulars," Junior said.

            Red snorts, and said, "Can't afford no freebies."

            Bubba laughed.

            Artie and Joe Bob entered and pulled stools to the bar.

            Junior said, "Hey."

            Bubba said, "Hey."

            Red said, "Hey."

            Joe Bob said, "Hey."

            Artie said, "Hey."

            Red said, "You boys wanna beer?"

            Joe Bob told him, "Naw, Red, we just came in to get out of the snow."

            Red craned his neck and looked out the window. "I don't see no snow."

            "It's July, Red," Junior told him.

            Red looked as if he got it and pulled beers for Artie and Joe Bob.

            Joe Bob asked, "Why don't you hire some sweet young thing to wait tables in here? It sure would increase your business."

            "'Cause I'd owe more taxes. Can't afford what I pay now."

            "But you'd be makin' more money, Red," Bubba said.

            "It all goes to the government anyhow.  I'm gonna go inventory my backroom. If you boys want a beer, get it your own self and put the money in that bowl yonder."

            He disappeared through a door to the store room.

            Junior laughed and said, "Inventory his backroom my butt. His horse can count higher than he can."

            Artie asked, "What's new with you boys lately?"

            Bubba perked up and said with enthusiasm, "I got a new duck call I ordered through a catalog."

            Joe Bob added, "Man, wish I had a new one. I'm still usin' the one my granddaddy gave me for a graduation present."

            "I didn't know you graduated, Joe Bob," Junior said.

            "Yeah, actually it was a GED, but granddaddy was sure proud of me.

            Junior said to them, "I'm thinkin' of getting' a new truck. Mine is burnin' more oil that gas lately. "

            Red came out of the storeroom. "Hey, I been thinkin'. Do you boys think ghosts are real?"

            Junior snickered and says, "Well, of course. What a dumb question."

            "You do?" Red asked, amazed. "You ever seen one?"

            "Well, of course I have, nearly every day."

            "You ever talk to one, or do anything else, like dance with one maybe?"

            "Don't be silly, Red," Junior said with a sneer. "They can't dance." He laughed, and then looked at everyone conspiratorly, "I done other stuff with them when I was a kid though." He winked a knowing look on his face.

            "You're kiddin'. What did you do with them?" Red asked.

            "Well, I ain't ashamed of what I did. I was a farm boy. Lots of us did stuff like that."

            Red was agape, stunned. "You mean you had sex with a ghost?"

            Junior looked flabbergasted. "Ghost!  Hell, I thought you said ‘goats'"

            They all broke up laughing, all but Junior who was sulking.

            Joe Bob said to Artie, "And you call me dense. Oh, mama!"

            Artie, laughed, and said, "What's wrong, Junior, couldn't you catch no cows?"

            They all laughed again. Junior sulked even more.

            Red shook his head and went back to the storeroom.

            Artie looked at Joe Bob and then said to the other two, "I'll tell you boys a funny one on JB here. Did you hear about him being in hot water with the Parson?"

            They shook their heads in the negative.

            Joe Bob piped up with, "Damn, Artie, you don't need to tell that one."

            Artie, grinned and said, "It's the best story I've heard all year. He hit on the Parson's wife!"

            Junior and Bubba looked incredulous.

            Joe Bob said, "Ah, hell, I was sittin' across from her in church the other day and she kept winkin' at me all through her husband's sermon. I figgered she wanted a piece of this ole boy, you know."

            "But, man, she's hog ugly!"

            Artie said, "That doesn't make any difference to him. He ain't never passed on nothin'."

            Bubba asked, "Why was she winkin' at you?"

            "It turns out she wasn't winkin'," Joe Bob confessed. "She's got this nervous tic."          With tears streaming down his face, Artie said, "He went up to after church and tried to get a date with her. She slugged him right there on the church steps in front of everybody. Man, you should of seen it."

            Bubba said, "Man, it couldn't of been pretty."

            Joe Bob blurted out, "You think that was somethin', Jenny Rose done cut Artie off. How ‘bout that?"

            "What!" Junior spewed. "That ain't legal is it?"

            "Hell, she can't do that!" Bubba stated. "What's she trying to do?"

            Artie hung his head, his chin on his chest. "She wants me to get a vasectomy."

            "What the hell is that?" Bubba asked.

            "She wants him to get castrated," Joe Bob explained.

            "It ain't castration," Artie corrected. "It's just a simple little operation.

            "My granddaddy just cut one of his horses, and it wasn't pretty. The old hoss just stands around and stares at the barn. He hardly moves all day long," Bubba said.

            "You ain't gonna get that done, are you, Artie?" Junior wanted to know.

            "I will if I don't want to move off to some Monastery on a mountain. She's serious as a heart attack this time. I guess she don't want no more kids."

            "Doggies, how you gonna do that?" Bubba asked.

            "He's goin' to the doctor to get it done, numb-skull," Joe Bob said.

            "A vet or a people doctor?" Junior asked.

            Artie shook his head and said, "She wants me to see that Yankee boy, Doc Jamison."

            "Whoa," Junior said, sitting up straight on the stool, "ain't he that sissy feller that was in here drinkin' outta a glass that time?"

            Artie shakes his head.

            "Man, he's from Pennsylvania or somewhere up there. You gonna let him mess around with your private parts?" Bubba asked.

            "I ain't got much of a choice here, Bubba. He is a real doctor though."

            "I'll bet he enjoys his work, if you know what I mean."

            Artie nods in agreement and said, "Try tellin' that to Jenny Rose."

            Red came back into the room, wiping his hands with a towel.

            "Hey, I just thought of somethin'. You boys believe in ghosts?"

            Junior said, "You already asked us that once, Red."

            "I did? I guess I better get back in there and think of somethin' else."

            "Yeah," Bubba added, "good idea."

            Artie announces, "I gotta boogie. I'm gonna go home and try to reason with Jenny Rose once more time."

            He slaps Joe Bob on the back and ambles out of the bar.

Joe Bob said, "He's got his self a big problem."

Junior nods in agreement.

Bubba offers, "Man, get castrated or no more fooling around in the bedroom. That's a tough one. Sorta the same thing either way!"

"Naw, he can still do it if he gets cut. He just can't have no more kids," Joe Bob tells them.

"Oh," bubba says. "Well, he ain't gonna talk Jenny Rose outta nothin'. She is one hard-headed ‘ole girl," Junior said.

"I don't agree. He's a smooth tongued Devil. I'll bet he finds a way," Joe Bob muses.

Red rushed back into the room and said, "Hey, I just thought of somethin'. Do you boys believe-"

They all throw napkins and beer coasters at him.

Chapter Three

Artie was seated nervously on the examination table in Dr. Jamison's office. He had peeked at the magazines on the table; fiddled with several medical instruments lying around; examined the contents of a cabinet and spun himself on a stool. Still, he was nervous.

Dr. Jamison entered a clipboard in this hand.

"Hello, Mr. Mortimer. I'm Dudley Jamison."

"Uh...yeah, hello."

"Well, your vitals are all good. Your blood pressure is slightly elevated but, we often see that with patients. Not to worry. Open your shirt for me. I'll need to listen to the old ticker."

Artie eyed the doctor suspiciously, but did as he was told.

Jamison listened to Artie's chest and back with this stethoscope, having him do the various breathing exercises.

"Okay, no problem there either. Now, let's talk," Jamison said, as he pulled up the chrome vinyl stool. "You want to have a vasectomy, is that correct?"

"Hell, no, but Jenny Rose wants me to have one."

"Yes, I talked to her at church the other day. She explained your...uh...problem, and under the circumstances, I advised her to urge you to have the procedure."

"You did, huh?" Artie raised one eyebrow suspiciously.

"Yes, a vasectomy is a simple and safe procedure as well as practically fool-proof one for people who don't wish to have children. In your case, any more children."

"How's it work exactly?" Artie asked.

"We simply block the vas deferens, preventing sperm from entering your seminal fluid when you climax, thereby preventing fertilization. Simple!"

"And what's all that mean in plain English? What's my vast differences?"

"That's vas deferens. They are small ducts located on either side of your scrotum. That's the sac that holds your testicles. Are you with me so far?"
            "Yeah, they're in my balls."

"Er...yes, that's basically correct. One procedure requires we make a couple of small incisions to reach these ducts and then we simply tie them off, take a couple of stitches and, bingo, you're done."

"Just how done am I after you do that?"
            "You will still be able to have an erection and participate in normal sexual relations if that's your worry. You will just be sterile and can no longer father a child."

"In other words, I'm just shootin' blanks."

"You can say that. Yes."

"I ain't gonna be one of them U-necks, am I?"

"No. That's eunuch, a whole different thing."

"Cool. This may not be so bad after all."

"Now, Artie...may I call you Artie?"

"Sure."

"Er...Artie, there are a couple of variations on the procedure I just described to you. We have a recent procedure that is becoming more popular and what I recommend for you.  It's a no scalpel procedure.'

"Does that mean no cuttin' at all?"

"Yes, and it is equally effective, maybe more so."

"I like the sound of that no cuttin'. Let's do that. How's it work?"

"We use a surgical clamp to hold the vas while a small puncture, not a cut, is made with a special forceps. The instrument opens up to stretch the skin. We then lift the vas out through that tiny opening, suture it, stuff it back in place and we're done. The puncture is so small it doesn't require any stitching. You'll recover much faster."

"Yeah, that sounds more like it. Say, don't you have some kind of ‘lil ole pill a man can swaller and do the same thing? You got a pill for everything else."

"Sorry, no, but this is nearly as easy. There is a third way called a Vasclamp procedure, but it's probably not covered by your insurance and is a permanent procedure. What we'll do could be reversed in the future if you were to choose to do so."

Artie frowned and asked, "Are you sure this is as easy as you're makin' it out to be? I ain't gonna swell up and be all sore, am I?"

"I don't anticipate that. It will be about like a bruise. You should hardly know you've had it done."

"Uh...you're still gonna have to handle my boys, right?"

"No way to prevent it, Artie."

"Well, there ain't gonna be no peace at my house until I do..."

Artie broke out in raucous laughter and slapped his leg.

Puzzled, Dr. Jamison asked, "What? Did I miss something?'

"Naw, not really. It's a private joke. Never mind. Okay, when we gonna be able to do this? Six months, a year?"

"Oh, no, much sooner. In fact, one day next week. Sally will schedule you when you leave. We'll do it right there on the table where you're sitting."

Artie flinched, looked down at the table and then smiled.

"Okay, that's cool. "

Dr. Jamison plucks a piece of paper off his clipboard and hands it to Artie.

"Here's a list of things you'll need to do to prepare yourself the day of the surgery."

Artie glances at the paper. "Er...uh...okay. Shave my own self? Is that right?"

"Yes, just like you shave your face in the morning. Nothing to it."

"Doggies! Say, is it just gonna be me and you in here when you do this?"

"No, my nurse will assist," Jamison says, a brief smile on his lips.

"Oh, yeah? What's she look like."

"She's old, and has seven kids. Sorry, Artie."

"Oh, well. It's just as well, I guess." He slides off the table.

"Artie, be sure and follow all the instructions on that paper. It seldom ever happens, but on rare occasion, infection can set in if you're not careful. You don't want that to happen, believe me."

"Whoa! I've heard of that. The boys swell up and everything, don't they?"

"I've seen them as big as an Elephant's"

Artie shuddered and said, "Come on, you're kiddin', ain't you?"

"Just follow the instructions to a tee, Artie. Get set-up with Sally outside and I'll see you next week."

"Next week, huh?"

"Yep, snip, snip," Jamison said, making scissors of his fingers.

Artie shuddered again and left.

Jamison broke out in a grin from ear to ear.

Chapter Four

            Jenny Rose walked into the trailer, a worn bible in her hand. After church she had dropped her children off with her mother. They were taking the kids with them on a one-week trip down to Disney World in Florida.

            Artie was sitting on the couch wearing nothing but a pair of old, torn jeans.

            "Hey. How'd it go? What's for dinner?" he asked.

            "Good. The preacher talked about you again," she said.

            "Aw, Jen, he ain't talkin' about me. He means the Devil.

            "Well, it sounds like you. We're havin' what's left of that ham in the fridge."

            "That's it, left-over's?"

            "Yep, the girls are comin' over for some Canasta after awhile. You'll need to disappear for a spell."

            Artie's eyebrows arched and he looked as if he just had an idea.

            "I ain't feelin' so good, all achy and everything. I think I'm catchin' the flu."

            "Really! When did that come over you?"

            "Just this mornin'. If I ain't feelin' better by Tuesday, I'll have to postpone that

geldin'." He did his best to look pitiful.

            "Aw, you poor baby," Jenny said as she felt his head. "No fever though. I tell you what, you just stretch out there on that couch and I'll make you some soup. I know how miserable you must feel."

            "Yeah, well...uh...ain't you supposed to feed a cold? I mean, that ham would be okay with me."

            "No, definitely you don't feed a cold. The soup will be good for you."

            "Damn, an old boy could starve to death in this weakened condition."

            "That's the way it is when you're hangin' at death's door."

            Artie coughed into his hand on cue and made puppy-eyes to Jenny.

            She smiled and said, "You know, it's too bad about you getting' sick right now. Not only are you gonna have to postpone your surgery, you're goin' to miss the annual tractor pull over in Cedar Town. Uncle Leon gave me two tickets to it this mornin'."

            Artie's eyes popped open and he raised up to a sitting position. "What! Are you kiddin' me? I been waitin' for that all year."

            "I know, honey, and it's just too bad. I'll give the tickets to Joe Bob."

            "NO! No, don't do that yet. Maybe your soup will make me feel a bunch better."

            With a sweet smile and a syrupy voice, she said, "Oh, I hope so. Then you can still make it to see Doctor Jamison on Tuesday, can't you?"

            "Dang it all. I guess so."

            "Well, if you're not feelin' up to leavin', get your puny carcass into the bedroom. The girls will be here soon. I'll make your soup."

            "I don't see how come you bring them over here. You know I get fiddigety around them."

            "You know we've all been friends since grade school. Just ‘cause you was married to all of ‘em doesn't mean I can't still be friends with them."

            Pouty, Artie said, "I wasn't married to Billie Jo."

            "I know, you were too damned lazy to get around to it. Anyhow, pick a spot, the bedroom or down to Red's, one of the two."

            "Aw, hell, I'll go to Red's even though I can barely walk. I'll probably infect all them ‘ole boys down there, too."

            "Yeah, I expect a real epidemic."

            Artie slowly moves toward the bedroom to dress, mumbling under his breath.

            Ginny Rose is struggling to keep from laughing out loud.

Chapter Five

            Jenny Rose, Sara Lee, Becky Ann and Billie Jo were gathered around the small kitchen table, Canasta cards spread in front of them.

            Jenny was telling them about Artie's escapades regarding the upcoming surgery.

            "...then he claimed to have the flu. I'm lookin' for a miracle cure since I mentioned havin' tickets to the tractor pull."

            The girls all giggle.

            Sara Lee said, "Men are so shallow."

            "Damn, I'd give a month's pay to be a fly on the wall when Doc Jamison cuts on him," Billie Jo added.

            "Me, too. I'll bet he'll be a sight," Becky Ann added.

            Billie Jo asked, "Is he scared?"

            "He claims he's not, but I think he's shakin' in his boots," Jenny said.

            "If there's a God in Heaven, the doc's hand will slip and cut it off of him," Becky Ann said, laughing.

            Sara Lee said, "Hell, I threatened to do that to him more than once."

            They all howl in laughter.

            "He had to shave his own privates. Wouldn't let me do it. He locked himself in the bathroom and was in there nearly an hour," Jenny told them.

"I'll bet his hand was shakin'. It's a wonder he didn't whack it off himself, Becky Ann added. They all laughed hard.

"We all make fun of old Artie," Billie Jo stated, "but he's good with all the kids. You gotta give him that."

"That's true. He's also the only one of my ex-husbands that stays even close to current on child support," Sara Lee said.

Becky Ann said, "Mine, too. I'm sure it's because of you, Jenny Rose. I know how you stay on his butt about it."

"Yeah, I try to," Jenny admitted, "but, truth is, Artie isn't such a bad ‘ole boy. He's a bit quirky, but he's got a good heart."

"Hell, they're all quirky," Billie Jo said.

"My old man cleans his nails with a stick," Becky Ann said.

Sara Lee, laughing, said, "Mine thinks loadin' the dishwasher is getting' me drunk!"

A round of howls ensues.

"Artie stole the speakers in his truck from the drive-in movie," Jenny said.

"Jimmy John wants to let his dog eat at the table with us. Claims he has good manners," Becky Ann said.

"Melvin cleans his ears with his truck keys," Sara Lee tell them.

Billie Jo, fighting through tears of laughter, said, "Parker cut the grass behind our out-building the other day and found that junky old Edsel he thought he'd lost."

Sara Lee struggled to say, "Melvin quit cuttin' our grass. He just burns it now!"

"Parker tried to take a cooler of Bud with us when I made him go to a church social with me," Billie Jo said.

"Ya'll stop it now. You're killin' me," Jenny says, pounding the table.

"When is Artie getting' cut?" Sara Lee asked.

"Tuesday morning, if he doesn't die of some exotic disease first."

"We should all come over early and give him a send-off party," Sara Lee said.

"It would be more fun to be here after it's done," Becky Ann said.

"Ya'll know he gets nervous when any of you are around. I don't think that's a good idea," Jenny said.

"Ya'll gotta admit it takes a lot of courage for an ‘ole boy like Artie to get that done and have to face all his buds down to Red's," Sara Lee said.

"Yeah, they are gonna give him hell, you just know," Jenny agreed.

Billie Jo added, "I hope they don't have no fights. You know how rowdy them ‘ole boys can get."

"Well, one thing's for sure," Becky Ann said, " Rockmart's population won't keep grownin' so fast after he has it done."

Chapter Six

            Jenny was standing at the window, anxiously peering out. Joe Bob had picked Artie up and taken him to Jamison's office for the surgery early that morning. It was now nearly noon and she was getting nervous waiting for their return.

            She went to the refrigerator and pulled out a Big Red. She heard a car door slam outside and the dog started growling.

            She ran to the door and jerked it open. Joe Bob was helping Artie out of the truck and Buck was actively tugging on Joe Bob's pants leg.

            "Buck, let him go," she shouted. The dog gave her a sly look and eased off to his favorite spot under a tree.

"How'd it go, honey?" she asked as she helped the groaning Artie into the trailer and over to the couch. "Are you okay?"

Moaning, Artie eases down onto the couch. "I'll never be the same again. You may as well get a divorce. I'm done. Put me out to pasture."

"I talked to Dr. Jamison on the phone and he said it all went well."

"What would he know? It wasn't his privates that were all shredded up."

Jenny turned to Joe Bob and asked, "Did Jamison let you stay in the room durin' the operation?"

"Yeah, after a bit of arguin'.

"Well, what happened? I know Artie won't tell a straight story."

"Well, first off, the nurse wasn't no old woman like the doc had told Artie. It was that cute little Jackie Sue Tatum. You know, the blonde with them big headlights?" He held his hands out in front of his chest.

"Yes, I know her. He's Miss 42, double D."

"That's the one. Anyway, when they pulled his jeans down, and she was spreadin' that orange medicine all over him he got...well...you know...sort of excited, if you know what I mean."

Jenny turned and looked disapprovingly at Artie.

"Artie Ray, you didn't!"

"Hell, I couldn't help it," Artie protested, "Big Jim's got a mind of his own. Besides , she shouldn't of been foolin' around down there like that anyhow."

She sighed and said, "You're hopeless, Artie Ray. A nurse preppin' a man for surgery, is not foolin' around."

Joe Bob snickered. "They had to get a bigger towel to cover him up. It reminded me of that big old tent at the revival."

Artie grins from ear to ear. "Pretty impressive, huh?"

Joe Bob continued, "The doc threatened to give him some kind of shot to ease it down, but Artie put up a howl at the mention of a needle."

"What if it had been permanent somehow?" Artie declared.

"Artie, you are such a dweeb!" Jenny said.

"Well, then the doc says he's gonna give Artie a local anesthetic to make sure there was no pain and Artie freaked again."

Artie said, "Hey, you're makin' it sound like I wimped out."

"You were screamin' and cryin'. What do you call it?"

"You ever had anybody threaten to stick a big old needle in your private place?"

Joe Bob shook his head and said, "No, and I ain't never gonna have."

"There you go. Don't be judgin' until you've been there," Artie said and moaned again.

Joe Bob said, "Hell, he only made two tiny little punctures you couldn't even see."

"Then what else happened, Joe Bob," Jenny asked. "He didn't use a scalpel, did he?"

"Naw, it was just a punch lookin' thing.  I couldn't really see too much lookin' over everybody's shoulder like I was."

"What was big, ‘ole tough Artie doin' all this time?"

"He was whimperin', kinda like a little puppy."

"Was not. I was hummin' a country-western song," Artie protested.

"Sounded like whimperin' to me. You had tears runnin' down your cheek."

"That song always gets to me."

"Yeah, right!"

"Well, it's all over now, honey," Jenny said. "He told me on the phone you could go back to work by Friday, next Monday latest."

Artie grimaces and says, "That shot he gave me is wearin' off.

"I've got your prescription in my pocket," Joe Bob said. "You want me to go down to Wal Mart and get it filled for you?"

Jenny said, "I'll do it, Joe Bob. I have to get some things there anyway. But, thank you for offerin'. You've been a big help today."

"Yeah, thanks, Bud," Artie said.

"No big deal. It was worth it to see him get gelded. I gotta run. I'll see you guys later." He exits.

They could hear Buck growl and Joe Bob cursing.

Jenny smiled. "That dog flat out doesn't like him, does he? Joe Bob is a good friend to you, Artie.'

"He ain't no friend. He's my cousin."

"Whatever." Jenny walks over to the kitchen sink, her back to Artie and stares out the window. After a few moments, she begins to sob softly.

"Hey, Jenny girl, what you cryin' for? It's all over now. It's me that's been spaded, I'll be okay, honey."

She turned back toward him, crying harder. She ran across the room and threw her arms around Artie, sobbing into his shoulder.

"There, there, punkin'. It's okay. Don't cry. Maybe I ain't hurtin' as much as I said."

"I know. I know. It's not that!"

"Well, what is it then, honey?"

"It just hit me. There won't ever be any more babies runnin' around."

"What? What are you talkin' about? This is what you wanted ain't it?"

Jenny wipes her nose with her hand and looks him in the eye.

You know that surgery is reversible. You could have another operation and get it fixed!"

Artie's eyes flew wide open and he stared out the window in shock.

                                                END