Well that was a fine how do ya do. Last week, I done found me that box that I was tellin' you about. The only problem is that it looked like some dern fool had opened it before me and was already fussin' with all of the chemicals inside. By the time that I got there, the box was open and its contents spread this way and that all over the room. So, I started pokin' 'round to see if I could find anything interesting to acquire when all the sudden I feel this big ol' crack to the back of my head. As I'm blackin' out, I hear this really low and creepy laugh from behind me.
So's I wake up the next mornin' in the beauty salon. 'Ceptin' for a real bad headache, I reckon that I'm more or less in one peice. So, as I'm fixin' to leave, I catch a look at myself in the mirror and see that I been shaved. No beard an' hardly any hair left up top. So, I thinks to myself: "Why that no good varmit! If I find out who done this there's gunna be heck to pay!" Then, I stick my hand in my pocket and pull out a note that reads:
"This wuz a warnin'. You aught not be where ya ain't suppost ta be. Next time, I won't be so kind."
No signature, but I figure I ain't gonna be pokin' round no more for that thar box. I guess the silver linin' as they say is that people won't be able to identify 'ol JR no more.
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