Winter fishing with Jerry and Joe Bob

“Hey Jerry, let's go fishing.”

“What? Joe Bob you’re crazy. It’s chilly and the wind is howling and they're calling for rain. Besides I recorded the basketball game last night and I don't know what happened.”

“Oh, you mean the one Carolina won or the one State won?”

“Joe Bob, get out of my house.”

“Look Jerry there ain't no point looking at basketball when the fish are biting.”

“Fish? It's February. What fish do you think are biting?”

“Welleespeckled trout. Everybody knows I’m a great trout fisherman.”

“Speckled trout? That's rich. You ain't caught a speckled trout in 10 years. You wouldn't know what one looked like if it jumped in the boat and whistled Dixie at you.”

“Now that's a lie Jerry. I caught a speckled trout just this fall. Remember, when we were fishing at that bridge with them grubs that glowed in the dark, and I hug him up so nice. He come to the boat, but you couldn't net him and I had to grab your shirt and save you from falling in. The fish got away, but you yourself said he was a monster.”

“Joe Bob, I didn't have the heart to tell you, but that was an oyster toad. A fat, ugly one that might have been 15 inches. I was so thankful you stopped me from falling in the water I turned the toad into a trout.”

“Oh. Well. ButeeheyeeI know how sneaky you are Jerry. Maybe you are making THIS story up, because you don't want to go fishing now. It was a trout wasn't it?”

“I'm starting the game Joe Bob.”

“No, look, there are other fish. We could go drum fishing. Anybody can catch an ol' drum. They ain't even smart.”

“In which case you should get along with them right pert. But as I recall you haven’t had much luck with the drum fishing in the last few years either. Maybe if some stoned kid quits his band and throws an actual drum in the waterway you have a shot, but other than that I see no hope in it.”

“It doesn't have to be one of those glamour fish, Jer. There are skates.”

“Skates? Skates? Who in the name of my crazy Aunt Tilly would want to go out and catch a skate on purpose?”

“That shows what you know. People eat those things. In France, they are considered a delicacy.”

“Oh really. Well Joe Bob, in case you haven’t noticed we are not in France, where they are considered a delicacy, we are in Brunswick County where they are considered a dang pain in the ever-loving butt.”

“I'm telling you, they make scallops out of those things.”

“Yeah, well, a lot of strange things have happened since Cheney became vice president. But I order clam strips anyway, so I don't really care.”

“Look Jerry, your DVR is messed up! It's just that show Lost. Now you can go fishing.”

“Are you kidding? I like this show even better than basketball. All those mixed up people on that island with no clue what is going on. Reminds me a little of local government.”

“Man that Evangeline Lilly is one hot chick. I wish I was lost on an island just me and her. Bertha could stay home and bitch about the yard all she wanted.”

“Joe Bob, you have about as much chance of making time with Evangeline Lilly as you do of catching a speckled trout.”

“You never know. Those rich Hollywood women ain't never done nothing. She might like a little ride in my pick-up and a good spot of fishing. Might think ol' Joe Bob is not such a bad guy, get away from all those fake California fellas.”

“You mean the ones with the tans and muscles and all the money?”

“Yeah, them lightweights. Let's see those movie studs gig a flounder. Well, maybe ol' Clint Eastwood, but he's different. Hey, where are you going Jer?”

“To get my poles. If I am going to sit around talking to you all day I might as well be doing something constructive, even if it is netting oyster toads.”

“That's the spirit!”

“By the way Joe Bob, I suppose when you get to your island you are going to catch Evangeline Lilly speckled trout to eat?”

“Dern straight I will.”

“Well, that’ only proper I guess.”

“No choice Jerry.”

“Because otherwise you'll starve?”

“No. Because I can't feed a pretty thing like that raw skate and oyster toads all the time.”