True story of family dynamics and hornpout [that's a kind of catfish to those who don't know], as told at the New London Historical Society: Clarence and Merle went hornpouting one night and during the fishing expedition got into the sauce. The hornpout were biting good, and the sauce was tasty, too. When they disembarked the boat to head home (let’s assume they were walking -- not driving after having embibed), they set the bag of pout on the ground. Merle slipped and sat on the bag -- the horns of the pout penetrating his backside in a number of places.
Back at the house, Merle told his wife of his injuries and explained he’d sat on a bag of pout. She didn’t believe a word of it.
Next day, she confronted Clarence. “Clarence,” she said, “were you part of this lunacy last night?”
Clarence explained that he had been and that, indeed, Merle had sat on a bag of pout.
“Oh,” she said, “that’s a relief. I thought he’d been drinking.”
Back at the house, Merle told his wife of his injuries and explained he’d sat on a bag of pout. She didn’t believe a word of it.
Next day, she confronted Clarence. “Clarence,” she said, “were you part of this lunacy last night?”
Clarence explained that he had been and that, indeed, Merle had sat on a bag of pout.
“Oh,” she said, “that’s a relief. I thought he’d been drinking.”
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