The Backfire That Backfired Matter

Johnny darn out of a preacher on the church. Are you very I sometimes wish I could. I'll wait a minute. I guess we still have a slinger. But it was a silly you do it up at the crack of dog.

What are you talking about? It's almost eight o'clock. Exactly what I said the crack of dog. You just boil. John forgive you this time or not. Oh, oh, no, what have I done? My housewarming party.

Oh, no. Oh, yes. It took me three months of hard work to get my new little house fixed up out here. No visitors, no fun, no nothing. Betty. And then when I do invite you, and you accept.

Betty, honest, listen. That says this is crazy business of mine. Better be good, Johnny. Well, I was out in Eugene, Oregon, and there was no way. Eugene, Orange. Yeah, one of those last minute things, insurance investigation.

There was no way I could get out of it. Honest? Honest. I only got bagged me last night, but I'll make it up to you. I swear I will. Well, let's see. Day is, uh...

What? Betty! Hello, Betty! What's the matter, Johnny? You're asking me those gunshots. And if I suddenly groaned and dropped the telephone, would you come running out here? Are you kidding it? What? Only I cannot tell a lie.

That was just some hot rod kid with a cut-down convertible. Oh, a bag-clayer, huh? Yes. Every morning at exactly eight o'clock, you'd set your watch by it. Are you sure that's all it was? At eight o'clock in the morning?

Sure. And honey, I'll cook you the greatest breakfast you ever had. Yeah, but... Maybe even convince you that married life isn't such a bad idea after all. On the strength of a planter of ham and eggs?