“You serious?”
“As a swollen prostate.”
Norman had never been to Nashville, so, three days later, he decided to fly down and present the revised lyrics in person.
Joe read them twice and said, “Damn, boy, now we’re getting somewhere.”
“You like it?”
“Got-damn, I love it. This could be huge. The time is right for this kind of message. ‘Mericans are nervous, maybe a little scared. The world’s in turmoil. Song like this makes ‘em feel safe and secure. Like we’re all in it together, ready to kick ass and take names.”
Norman couldn’t help himself. He was starting to get excited by the prospect. Country music? Really? Who would have guessed?
“One other thing,” Joe said. “You’re gonna need a new name.”
“What?”
“Seriously?”
“No offense, son, but you talk real funny.”
Norman laughed. “I talk funny?”
“Glad we agree. And I notice you got a little hitch in your gita-long.”
“A what?”
“A limp, son.”
“Oh, that’s an old snowboarding injury.”
“Snow what?”
“The hell’s a snowboard?”
“It’s, um, kinda like a surfboard, but smaller. You ride it. On snow.”
Joe gave him a puzzled stare. “Well, forget that crap. Cowboys don’t snowboard. Anyone asks, you done that riding a bull.”
The Complete Series of Blanco County Mysteries.
Available now, or coming soon, in ebook format.
Buck Fever
Bone Dry
Flat Crazy
Gun Shy
Holy Moly
For more information, visit www.benrehder.com.