Now what's this I'm a -hearin' about the Nooge bein' on fire over there in l'il ole England? Darn right, he is. I knocked some sense inta that boy like a hog bein' bull-whipped around the hind quarters and now he just can't stop scorin'. Last year he couldn't a hit a barn door with a banjo's ass (pardun ma cussin), now he is THE MAN. As ma cousin Shelley says, Holla if ya hear what I'm sayin, y'all.
Now I kinds must admit to bein' more'n a l'il impressed with the new signings we've acquired, ain't it so. Barry Brian Murphy, Brian Barry Murphy and Dwayne Barry Jones. Hot dickety, them's just like some of my 72 cousins (all called Dwayne y'hear), yes sirree bob! An' all livin' in a shoebox way out west, tickle ma toes!
When my accountant reurns from a short trip to Idaho to sort out some cattle rustlin' pesky son of a mule who owes me for a whole topside of ranch ribs (and I do mean PRIME beefsteak now, none of that Trotters jerky you find over at the Reebok), I'll be splashin' the cash and sending a few George Washingtons to refinance the Gigg Lane redevelopment. You can count on it now (or ma name ain't Notorious Del). Operatives William, Arne and Abram, come in fellas, yo' time is near.
Time to head off to meet ugly kid joe at the Rochfail ranch.
This is Del Starbuck headin' off, y'hear.