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4 words: nickel, football, boxers, combat

“Well lookie here, Rhonda Sue, a shiny ol’ nickel just a’ waitin for me!” Billy said with glee as he shifted his weight to pick it up and almost toppled over.

“Oh, we sure is rich now. Maybe yeh can buy yerself some new suspenders. I sure is sick of seein’ your full moon, boy.”

Billy mumbled under his breath to his wife about needing new boxers, as a matter of fact, and set off to find a suitable pair.

“These here sure are nifty!” Billy moved his toothpick to the other side of his mouth. Rhonda Sue eyes the Bart Simpson underwear.

“I do not think so. I ain’t payin’ 5.99 for that crap! Rollin back prices my –“

“Rhondaaaa!”

Billy had wandered into the electronic department.

“How’s about we get this game? Sure does look neat!”

“We ain’t getting no combat games! You want little Jimmy Dean and Bobbi Sue to grow up violent? What’s wrong with you boy?” Rhonda Sue murmed something about fighting games and growing children as she pushed the cart towards the blenders.

“Let’s go. You think we got all day to mosey around? I hafta drop the kids off at Mawmaws so I can go to Smithie’s party. Come on!”

Billy put the game back on the shelf and shuffled behind his wife. Into the pickup. Rhonda Sue puffed on her cigarette and smoothed back her wiry hair as she drove. “Now get out and send the kids. Hurry up- I’m waiting, boy!”

Billy slammed the door to the truck. The kids ran out the door past him without so much as a word.

He soaked up the silence in the house. Letting out a breath, he popped open a can of beer. The sun began to sink as he settled into his burnt orange recliner to watch football.

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