View Full Version : Arkansas to New York: A (Fake) Autobiography of a Redneck

January 2nd, 2012, 05:35 PM
This piece is best read out loud in a redneck voice.

The first time I got me a job, t’was at a local faire in Bald Knob, Arkansas. I was fresh outta high school with no money for college and parents who locked them’s door when I left. They never did like me, no siree. Kicked straight through the door at the age of eighteen, I was, left to fend for meself. I guess them’s the breaks.
Anywho, back in Bald Knob I was a souvenir salesman at the New Year’s fireworks faire, that lasted a whole week ‘ncase somebody missed ‘em. My living was made a’sellin goofy glasses shaped like “1986”, little stuffed puppies with plastic sticks attached to the back, and other goodies for the youngins. They was more or less a’beggin for 'em, ‘n their parents was buying ‘em. O’ course there wasn’t much money to be made- the other merchants ‘n I, we was makin’ a nickel a kid. Now I ain’t much good at math, but I think we made us two dollars a day. In other words, we was makin’ doodley-squat. The big boss, Mr. Brandt, took away one dollar, ‘n so we only took one dollar back to our trailer.
Now, one day I asked Mr. Brandt if maybe, jus’ maybe, I could keep them one-hundred cents he took away. Oh, he did get his overalls in a bunch, yesiree! That Mr. Brandt was a mean one. He wanted all the money for him ‘n his wife, Darcie, even though he was a’ownin’ the whole dang faire. Some people thought his cornbread ain’t done, that he ain’t havin’ a grain o’ sense in him. I’m a’guessing that to you, that means he ain’t got much in the smarts department.
“Mr. Brandt, I was a’wondrin’ if I could have me two dollars today instead o’ jus one. Y’know, to pay for some moonshine? I’d share it wit’ ya, I would.”
“Cletis, Cletis, Cletis. You know you ain’t gonna get the money! Why would I spend a dollar so ya could buy yourself some ‘shine to share wit’ me, when I could jus’ go but myself some ‘n drink it all?”
“Well, Mr. Brandt, it is the new year, ‘n I jus’ thought-”
“How often does the new year happen, boy?”
“Well, I reckon it happens every year, ‘n so I guess it’s been goin’ on for a hundred years.”
“So why should I give ya a raise jus’ because o’ a holiday that comes every year? If ya had any sense in ya, like me, ya wouldn’t be askin’ such a fool question. Now git back to work!”
I had a mind to sock him right in the face, I did, but I knew th’t I’d lose my job if I did. That ol’ dawg didn’t hunt no more, no he did not. So instead, I jus’ headed on over to the privy to get liquor’d up with some ‘shine before I started sellin’ them toys again.
When I got back to my cart, there was who but ol’ Chunky Tuttle standin’ by it, lookin’ at my stuffed unicorns.
“Howdy, Cletis!”
“Hey there, Chunky. Ya wanna buy some o’ my stuff? I need some more money, ya know, for moonshine.”
“Oh, you runnin’ out o’ the stuff, aintcha? I was a’thinking, maybe we should have us a little shindig tonight. Jus’ me, you, and the boys. Maybe some pretty dolls t’ dance with. I ain’t got enough money to spare ya some, but there’ll be some o’ the good stuff at the dance.”
“I reckon a dance would be good. An’ I do know me some young gals from high school, I might be able t’ get them to stop by the trailer-”
“We wouldn’t be a’havin’ it at the trailer, Clete. We’d be outside, in the woods. Far 'way from the fairegrounds, so ol’ Brandt ain't gonna hear us. Some o' the boys, they knows how to play the banjo reaal nice. We'll be havin' us some live music, we will!"
"Well, alrighty then, Chunky. It's purt nigh time ta get back ta work, so git back o'er yonder where yer cart is. I'll be seein' ya tonight."
Ol' Chunky, he was a big guy, yessiree! He had hairy arms, well, we all had us some hairy arms (and legs too), and a round belly that bounced 'round when'er he laughed. Chunky was a friendly fellow, and though 'is real name was Bobby we called him Chunky because o' his big build and big heart. Rumor had it that his real heart, y'know, the organ inside yer body, was actually two times as big as it shoulda been. So we was always careful 'bout not over-workin' him 'n we was giving him lots of moonshine to keep 'im in good health.

I, personally, like this piece much better than my other, "Northcote Coffee". It's still in progress, and I just thought my fellow writers might like to read what I have so far.

bazz cargo
January 16th, 2012, 11:10 PM
Hi Italy,
It's been a bitch of a day and I fancied a laugh. Thanks for the laugh.

You have a great ear/eye for dialogue. I liked the characterization. Very smooth shine man.

January 20th, 2012, 10:52 PM
Nice, just from reading that I feel the need to buy a pickup. You've got the character down pat. My only suggestion would be to ease up on the colloquialism a bit for the narration, it feels a bit forced when its overdone without dialogue. Especially when hes saying his yesireee!

February 21st, 2012, 02:37 AM
For a stream of conciousness it makes it a lot easier to read if you paragraph it a little more. It might benefit from seperating the introduction monolgue and then spacing the dialogue in a new paragraph.

Purely a formatting suggestion. maybe you weren;t worried so much about that as you were about the colorful dialgue and characters, which were very good ^^.

February 21st, 2012, 07:12 PM
This is idiodic. You obviously have no idea what a redneck even is. Stick with characters you understand, or research a little better. Its perfectly acceptable to offend your readers with a redneck character, or even make them laugh. But don't offend with poor writing.

Thats my $0.02.