The Twister Machine
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Be careful what you invent
Mostly I miss Lola. Miss Lolita Santiago, what with the dark wavy hair and the little curls that always bounced next to her pretty brown eyes, has my heart to this very day. An' that’s the truth!
Now you may’ve heard of the twister machine, I figure this was in 1970 or thereabouts, and I’ve heard all kinds of frightful tales told about it, so as I’m writin' my memoirs now, figured I’d go an' set the record straight!
Anyhows, it all started simple enough. I came back in from tendin' my garden that fateful day. As you kin imagine, it’s not easy keepin' a garden in the hills, what with all the varmints tryin' ta eat ever’thin afore I kin git nary a bite of it. But I mostly manage. I’d filled a bunch o' them kiddy-pools up with dirt so’s the ground hogs an' the moles can’t get ta my carrots. Chicken wire across the top ta keep out deer (course when they try, I sometimes git 'em! Then I got steak n roast for months! Goes good wit the carrots)!
Anyhows, I was acomin' back inside, and I notice the washin' machine was all stopped. Now prob’ly no surprise, what wit power lines ain’t too reliable in these parts. But then I notices my tape player’s still playin’, so I knows the power ain’t out. Gosh-darn it, the dang washer’s broken!
Now, if I’d just paid ol' Tim to come over’n fix it, none a this would’a happened. But y’see, I gots me a stubborn streak a mile long. I don’t see no use in spendin' no money if I kin do without! So I sets about solving the problem myself. Big mistake, an' one to regret ta this day!
Now I’m pretty handy with the woodworkin’ an’ machinin, an' it dint take none too long afore I had me a solution all drawed out. By nightfall I had me a Frankenstein of a machine built. Come mornin, I’ll be tryin’ it out, or else the mildew will start settin' in them wet clothes o’ mine.
Here’s another prob’lem, on top o' me having a stubborn streak, I’m a tad bit too proud. I knows the Good Book says that pride is a sin, an' one a' them mortal sins ta boot, but it ain’t never told me how ta cure myself of it. So there ya go.
Anyways, next mornin’ I’m out there, surveyin' my handiwork of the night afore, and my noggin starts pesterin' me with all these prideful thoughts. By the time I had my Frankenstein loaded on the trailer, I was all convinced that ever’one in town was gonna put in an order fer one, that very day, and I’d git rich sellin 'em, an' I’d…