Alan Gilfoy / 10/14/2004 / Dave’s writing class

A Hick and a Black Bottle/ Part One

	Mr. Joe-Bob was going to make a name for this town (Hickston, Alabama) in a way no one would have ever though possible. It all started on May 20th, 2004. On that date, he had told his children to get in to go on a trip. The story begins like this:

	“Get in the pickup truck now. We’re going to Tennessee.” He must’ve had a plan, because he was smiling and revealed his eight yellow teeth.
	
“ Where in Tainsee?” said his son, Billy-Ray Joe-Bob the Seventh. “And which pickup truck do you want?”

	“Use the one you found when you were mowing the lawn yesterday. We’re going to Lynchburg. We’re going to steal us some Jack Daniels Number Seven whiskey. Now, can you get Brandine to round up the other young uns? And can you remember to pack the shotgun I got you for your fourth birthday?” Dad responded.

	Pretty soon, Brandine had gathered twenty people, all her and Mr. Joe-Bob’s children. They were lined up on the front porch of the family’s dilapidated shack. The family’s fields were out in back, and there were three barely working pickup trucks lined up along the dirt and gravel road.

	“Now we have to bring supplies for this trip.” He proceeded to grab five of the children. He went to a storage house next to the shed. Two children were carrying a box labeled BUD LIGHT 216 CANS. Dad said “Put that in the trailer behind the first truck. And there are two more of those boxes.” Next up were B-R J-B the 6th and B-R J-B the 11th carrying cartons of smokes. Piggy, the family’s 8-year old  daughter, grabbed one of the cigarettes and proceeded to light it. This loading process continued with bagged pork rinds, frozen squirrel patties, forty-two guns, etc.

	Besides Billy-Ray Joe-Bob himself, his first son Cletus and another son named Ray-Bob drove the trucks. The children climbed into the truck beds. Billy-Ray himself climbed in through the window.

	Billy-Ray raised a Bud Light bottle, said “To our success”, opened it with his teeth, and started drinking. The three trucks started to clamber down the dirt road, country music blaring. The kids grabbed some of the guns and started firing them. (not at each other)

Would this crazy heist work? Billy-Ray drove the trucks around to a few other hick shacks and managed to get four more loaded pickup trucks for this mission. 
They made stops along the way, but for nothing unusual. (getting gas, bathroom breaks, stopping to eat, redeeming empty beer beer bottles) They arrived in Lynchburg on May 24th,2004
	A Tennessee Turnpike tollbooth operator asked “You going to the Jack distillery?” Mr.Joe-Bob responded with a wholehearted “Yep”. He paid the toll for his three trucks and they were released from the gate. 

`“Gentlemen, start your engines!” (The other four trucks were in the lanes to their right and left) The trucks started barreling out at 100 mph. “Whee” said Billy-Ray Joe-Bob the 10th. (age 3) It’s a wonder that nobody fell out of the trucks. “The Number Eight truck is surging to a lead. The Number Three truck, on his right, is slowing down for a pit stop. The Sunoco guys are playing along.” This was Mr.Joe-Bob, doing his own announcing.

They all made it to the Jack Daniels distillery without horrific crashes. They all pulled into the parking lot, grabbing a shotgun each as they pulled in. Fourteen doors opened and so did seven tailgates. 50 people (having a total of 400 teeth) stormed out and slammed back the doors/tailgates with a collective crash rivaling that of three hundred concurrently exploding fireworks. They started running with their guns, like this was some sort of commando exercise.

The guards recognized a problem and started shooting. However, all 50 of the hicks were dodging for cover and firing back. They were used to dodging shots. When they were out hunting, they were shot at by other dumb-as-wood rednecks who thought they were “critters”.

Ray-Bob created a diversion. Many of the others stormed in, using their Remington double-barreled shotguns as clubs, simply overwhelming the guards. It was a thunderstorm of inbred humanity. The Redneck Commandos didn’t leave them dead, but rather in bruised unconscious heaps. Some two and three year olds were swinging “Kiddie Rifles”.

Some of the hicks were scaling fences like monkeys when the gates were wide open. As one of them fell (Cletus Smith), his gun misfired and he was hit in the arm. This is why Hunter Education advises you to never climb a fence with a loaded gun.

The others proceeded to storm into the distillery itself. As directed by Mr. Joe-Bob, they calmly walked out carrying cases of “Jack Daniels Tennessee Sour Mash Whiskey Old Number Seven Brand.” This was repeated until the trailers behind the seven trucks were full. And when they were full, people were forced to hand over the keys to their trucks.

The great Daniels Heist would sure lend fame to Hickston, eh?