Fred hollered out, “Keep comin’ back. You’ve got ten feet to go. I’ve never seen a driver who can back his truck so slow.”
But then he yelled, “Ya better stop. Your ball and hitch ain’t there.” I took a look, and sure enough, the hitch was gone somewhere.
“I’d say someone has helped themselves,” old Fred said with a grin. “You made it too darned easy, only had to pull the pin.”
What kind of person does it take to steal a hitch and ball? They should have left a note that said, “We kindly thank you all!”
Well Fred commenced to saying, “This is mostly your own fault. A man who doesn’t lock his hitch ain’t worth his weight in salt!”
That started me a thinking. Should I lock the hitch and ball? Can I trust my friendly neighbor or trust anyone at all.
I think I’d rather trust a man. I’ll give it one more chance. Please bring the ball and hitch back and don’t be a scaredy pants.
You’ll see my dog tied to the truck. He’ll greet you with a smile. No need to be afraid of him. He’s not a bit hostile.
So go ahead and pet him. You can call him by his name. Just don’t forget to scratch is ears. That’d be a dirty shame.
I know I’m talkin’ foolish. You won’t never bring it back. You’ve prob’ly got it mounted and it’s painted shiny black.
I hope that you enjoy someone else’s hitch and ball. But pardner, just remember, you’re the lowest of them all.
I think I’ve said enough of this. I’ve got it off my chest. It’s just a plain old ball and hitch. There’s no use getting stressed.
So off to town we’ll drive to fix our temporary glitch. Two twenties, and a few cuss words, will buy a brand new hitch.