What We Have Here Is A Failure To Elaborate

Farmer H is full of...of...tales. Yeah. That's the ticket. Farmer H is full of tales.

"I went over to feed the horse--"

"You mean the mini pony?"

"Yeah. I went over to feed the horse, and I was getting the hay down--"

"You carried it on top of your Gator?"

"No, HM. I have hay where he cain't get to it."

"Oh. Not in the pen."

"Yes, it's in his pen! But I keep it stacked where he cain't--"

"What's it stacked on?"

"It ain't stacked on nothin'. I keep it so--"

"It's on the ground? In his pen? So he can just walk up and eat it when he wants? He'll founder!"

"No. It's on the other side of the fence, where--"

"So it's NOT in his pen! It's on the other side of the fence."

"It's in his pen, HM. I put it in the shed I built for the goats...and him, so he--"

"He can't even get in his shed? Because you have the hay in there?"

"He can get in the shed. I put the hay behind the fence so--"

"WAIT! You put the hay behind the fence, but the hay is in the pen, inside his shed...YOU BUILT A FENCE INSIDE HIS SHED?"

"YES! There's a fence to keep him from getting to the hay. Inside his shed."

"Well, why didn't you SAY so?"

"Anyway, what I started out to tell you was that when I cut off a section of hay for him, and pulled it down, THREE EGGS FELL ON ME!"

I don't know about you, but cub reporter Mrs. Hillbilly Mom sees the FENCE INSIDE A SHED as being more of a story than three eggs falling off some hay.