(xx) Fifty Photos of Vic

Well sir, it's about three o'clock in the afternoon as we approach the small house halfway up in the next clock now. And here on the back porch we find Mrs. Victor Gork and her Amy Bologna, Mr. Fletcher Rush.

Our friends are seated side by side on a top step at one and Uncle Fletcher is saying... I've been riding on Gumpox's garbage wagon ever since noon. I got a quick in my back. Well, I'll bet you have.

Tell us, look terrible, uncomfortable, perched up there. Drop it. You're going to have to put garbage wagon. Just a lame brain fight to sit on. God Box, of course, has got a cushion. I have a cushion up in the attic, I'll give you.

Oh, go, ballers. I just have to stay inside of you. No, but I have. It says, so fulfill us, our man give Vic. Says, my name is Howard T. McWilliams-Cunana. Yeah? Remind me the next time you plan to spend the day right now in the garbage wagon.

be swaggin. Oh, right. We're turning out in a nice, isn't it? Like, we both had a piece to recite at the same time. That's a sign somebody's dreamin' about us. Is it? There's a little rhyme I rattle off.

If you and your uncle both talk at once, you are a horse thief, your uncle's a dunt. If you and your cousins drop off to sleep, buy a team of draft horses at a price of this cheese, That's all I've said.

Anyway, people both talk at the same time, and it's a superstition somebody's dreaming about. No, I never heard that before. Oh, yes. Well, what did you start to say? That's right, just an old superstition.