Overhome there

Last Seardee night me and the fellers overhome there had a bit of a rough go of her. We had gone fiddleheadin' earlier in the day some place up river, can't say where exactly, somewhere outback of the willy-wags. JR'd like to keep it a secret for the time bein'. Anyways, despite the fact she was some friggin' cold we managed to get a whole whack of 'em and got a pretty good jag on too while we's at it. Perly was rightoutaver by the time it was t' header an' we had t' get Ash to drive, though he wasn't in to great a shape neither. Well didn't Ash just a giv'er on up the side of the riverbank there and was just a piss-cuttin' her through the rhubarb when JR says he should slow the fuck down you ignernt son ofva whore, the cab ain't got enough room to swing a cat and he's spillin' his drink and so on. Ash kept on a humsuckin' her up the road and we's purtineer up t' the main road when we seen a couple of little gravel roader christers perched on the noll there with a big ol' bag a crabapples ready to whiff 'em at poor ol' Perly's pickup. So didn't I holler "Holy-liftin' you wanna giv'er there Ash..." when WHAM WHAM WHAM, crabapples exploding on the windshield there. Through the apple sauce an' muck I seen the two jeezly little christers just a cuffin' her back down toward the river laughin an' jumpin'. With all this commotion Perly started t' comeoutaver lookin' quite fizzed out like he'd been skizzled out of his pants or something or other, looked around the cab and proseeded to call Ash everything but a white man for drivin' so crazy an' runnin' into a bunch of apples an' we're lucky we're not sittin' out in the puckerbrush an' such an' so on. Ash says he's doin the best he could under the circumstances an' Perly better shut his face an' have another before he's sittin' back with the fiddleheads. By this time we's on the main road headin' overtown an' JR says we'd best pull off 'cause his back teeth were floatin' and I agreed. So Ash pulled us over into the rhubarb there an' we did it up an' got some more home brew off a the back there hopped in the front and Ash gav'er like there's no tamarrah. "Let's pick up some b'dayduhs n' butter an' have us a good ol' feed with them fiddleheads. We'll head on over t' Mildred's n' Ralph's. We'll stop at the LC an' get a couple of two fours for Ralph t' drink. He'll be happier n' a pig in shit t' see us."