A Mercury is a good car. That’s the car I was driving that day. I’ve had a lot of cars. Different kinds. Lot’s of different kinds of cars. She was standing – this girl – on the side of the street where there was this chicken stand, wasn’t the Colonel but it was a chicken stand nonetheless. I pulled the Mercury up right along side her and rolled down the window, see, by electric power. She had on a leather skirt and had a lot of hair on her arms. I like that a lot. That means a big bush. I like a big bush. She says, “Are you dating?” You know, so I said, “Sure”. She gets in and we pull off to a remote location that was comfortable for both she and I. She says, “How much do you wanna spend?”, I said, “Whatever it will take to see that bush of yours because I know it’s a big one”. She says, “Twenty five dollars”. That’s not chicken feed to a working man so I produce the $25, she puts it in her shoe, pulls up her skirt and there before me lay this thin, crooked, uncircumcised penis.
There was a young man by the name of John Leggit Hunter who ran a filling station business, a good filling station business and he’s one of these young men we all come across in life, I’m sure you’ve come across ’em, who did not deserve what he had and what he had was a beautiful young bride named Sarah. She was a Georgia peach. In fact, she was the picture I had in my mind of the perfect woman so I took it upon myself to take her away from John Leggit Hunter who did not deserve her. Oh, I don’t know if I mentioned this but he was a Frenchman who claimed to be an Englishman. It took a lot of strong nylon cord to get her away from him because she was a fighter as well as being a Georgia peach.
Sling Blade, Charles Bushman