It’s Hotter Than …
After he pulled out of the parking lot of Crowns R Us, Darcy headed to the right, takin’ Lizzy, Jane, and Charlie along with him.
Lizzy: Home is to the left. Where’re we goin’? It’s hotter than blue blazes in here.
Darcy: I bought a building for one of the consignment shops, and I wanted y’all to see it so you could tell me what you want.
Lizzy: Right now, I want air conditioning. It’s hotter than the devil’s workshop in this tank.
Darcy: It’ll cool off in a minute. I have the AC turned up as high as it can go.
Charlie: It’s hotter than five hogs in an Escort back here.
Jane: I’m hotter than a tick on a dog’s tail. I’m pure T sweatin’. Excuse me. Ladies don’t sweat down South. I’m glistenin’.
Lizzy: Darcy, you have to start crackin’ your windows. They’ll break in this heat if you don’t.
Darcy: Huh? I don’t think I want to crack my windows. I’d just have to hire somebody to put in new ones if I did.
Lizzy: I haven’t had this much fun since the pigs ate my brother. Darlin’, I didn’t mean to literally crack the windows. I meant, you should leave them rolled down a little. Then it won’t be quite as hot when you get back in. I’ve never actually seen car windows bust in the heat, but my daddy always said they would.
Charlie: My daddy says the same thing.
Darcy: Then it must be true. Y’all are right about one thing, though. It’s so hot, I’m sweatin’ like a dyslexic on a countdown.
Lizzy: Come again?
Darcy: Never mind. I’m sweatin’ like a politician on election day.
Lizzy: Was that supposed to be funny?
Darcy: It was funny.
Lizzy: Southern humor has to use wit. That was just a simile – a true one.
Darcy: It’s so hot I can make instant sun tea. That’s a good one. I used tea.
Lizzy: Sun tea? What’s that?
Jane: Sounds sacrilegious.
Darcy: So hot the cows are giving evaporated milk?
Lizzy: It’s a good thing you’re so fine.
Darcy: So hot I saw a fire hydrant chasing down a dog?
Charlie: Just stop. No Southerner would ever say that.
Darcy: So hot Lance Armstrong tested positive for water?
Lizzy: Darlin’, just keep it between the ditches. That’s your only job right now. Well, that and lookin’ good.
Darcy: Okay, then. I want a great sayin’ from each of you. Show me how it’s done.
Charlie: I’m hotter than a billy goat in a pepper patch.
Jane: It’s so hot, the hens are layin’ hard-boiled eggs.
Lizzy: It’s hot enough to fry eggs on the sidewalk.
Darcy: Okay. Southerners don’t use the names of people in the news when they talk.
Lizzy: We use country singers, football players, actors, and preachers. They’re in the news.
Darcy: As in?
Lizzy: It’s hot as a summer revival in here.
Darcy: You didn’t use any names.
Lizzy: I used religion. We do that a lot.
Darcy: Use a name.
Lizzy: Names work best if it’s someone you actually know. Here’s one: They call Mary Crawford “radio station,” because she can pick anyone up at night. She’s just naturally horizontal.
Darcy: Mary Crawford? Do I know her?
Lizzy: You will. She’ll enter the pageants. She already has enough trophies and crowns to choke a horse. That girl is so spoiled, salt couldn’t save her, but she’s built like a Coke bottle. A Southern beauty.
Darcy: Is she really, er, a loose woman?
Lizzy: I don’t exactly know. She and her brother Henry have reputations for being wild as bucks. Could be, people are just jealous, because they’re good lookin’ and rich. Everybody says she slept her way to most of those crowns. We didn’t go to the same school, so I don’t know them very well. I wouldn’t say that about her around strangers. It was just a joke, and I know you won’t repeat it.
Jane: Then maybe you shouldn’t say it at all. Least said is easiest mended.
Lizzy: You’re right. My mouth runs away with me sometimes. Bein’ good all the time is about as excitin’ as a mashed potato sandwich.
Darcy: Nah, Honey. Don’t feel bad. To me, you’re the best thing since sliced bread.
Lizzy: That was actually good.
Darcy: My granny says that. She’ll love you. You’ll make her smile.
Lizzy: I love her already.
Darcy: I want you to meet my family. I’ve met yours more than once now.
Lizzy: I’d like that.
Darcy: My mama’s havin’ a cookout Friday night, and she wants you to come.
Lizzy: Okay. Who’ll be there?
Darcy: My whole family. Aunts, uncles, cousins, parents, grandparents, and my sister.
Lizzy: Is it a family reunion?
Darcy: Not really. They all want to meet you.
Lizzy: Why? I’m nothin’ special.
Darcy: You are to me. Long as I got a biscuit, you have half.
Lizzy: You’re sweet as my memaw’s Co Cola cake. Does your mama do this for all your girlfriends?
Darcy: Um. No.
Lizzy: Why not? She’d be busy as a funeral home fan in July?
Darcy: Not hardly, Lizzy. I haven’t had a girlfriend since high school, so be prepared for the third degree.
Lizzy: I’ll be nervous as a fly in the glue pot. Will you stay beside me? They’ll think I’m weird.
Darcy: They’ll all love you – just not as much as I do. You’re more like them than I am. I’m the weird one.
Charlie: Are we almost there? It’s hotter than a stolen Chevy back here.
Darcy: It’s that blue building, up the street on the right.
Lizzy: Over yonder, Charlie. You can’t miss it. I know the first thing I want to change about it. Paint that sucker white. It’s hurtin’ my eyes.
Darcy: I’ll hire a crew to do that. You and Jane concentrate on the inside of the store.
Lizzy: I like concentratin’ on you more.
Lizzy: Oh, yeah. You’re so hot, two hobbits just threw a ring at you.
Darcy: Tolkien reference! I’m so lucky they tried to hang me, and the rope broke.
Lizzy: Sweet talkin’ devil.