Fudder Stutts:  When I was walkin home from the grocery, I cut thru the park ‘n nearly stepped on one a my testicles that slipped out a my ballsack ‘n landed on the ground in front a me.  I just hadda take a photo of it.

Orn Filament:  Gives new meaning to “the selfie.”  

Ulani Furbag:  Fudder, you poor dear.  You want me to come over and stitch up your ballsack so you don’t lose your other testicle?

Fudder Stutts:  Oh, you’re so sweet, Ulani.  You hand stitch or use a sewing machine?  Cuz if you use a sewing machine, then I don’t much like the idea a flopping my ballsack on your machine only to have that machine slip a couple a stitches leaving me to witness fluids oozing out from the little holes.

Ulani Furbag:  For you, Fudder, I can hand stitch.  

Lem Lipscomb:  Ohhhh, I think Fudder’s got a sweetheart!   

Crane Dodah:  Fudder, did anyone ever tell you your testicle looks from the brain from the planet Arous?

Fudder Stutts:  Why no.  I don’t think so.

Orn Filament:  Fudder, you do know that you nearly stepped on osage orange, don’t you?  Not your testicle.

Lem Lipscomb:  We used osage orange on the Cong in Vit Nam.

Orn Filament:  Some of it ever slip back into your brain, Lem?

Lem Lipscomb:  Hey, Fudder.  I bet you can get Ulani to sow that testicle back into your ballsack, ‘n return you back to normal.

Fudder Stutts:  I don’t think so, Lem.  I didn’t see any nerve endings wrapped around it, so’s I think the nerves got severed when the testicle fell outta my ballsack.

Lem Lipscomb:  Shit, I know what you mean.  I had my nerves severed by osage orange in Vit Nam.

Orn Filament:  That’s what I thought.

Ute Simonson III:  Lem Lipscomb?  Is your daddy “Big Daddy” Lipscomb, of Baltimore Colt fame?

Lem Lipscomb:  Well, I’m not sure, but I’m kinda leanin toward a ‘no’ on that one, Ute.

Ute Simonson III:  Orn, you got a brother named Tungston?

Orn Filament:  I sure do!  But he’s in another chapter.

Crane Dodah:  Fudder, I bet you can sell your testicle to a sporting goods store.  Make a few bucks.  Get enough bucks ‘n you can wad ‘em up, put ‘em in your pocket, ‘n nobody’d know you dropped one a your nuts in the park.

Lem Lipscomb:  I know zackly what you’re talking about, Crane.  When my dick fell off, I stuck a Mettwurst down my pants when I had to attend a sales convention in Omaha.  No one knew the difference.

Orn Filament:  That happen because of an osage orange attack, Lem?

Lem Lipscomb:  They don’t use osage orange in Omaha, Orn.  Don’t you know anything?

Fiona Lipp:  That’s not your testicle, Fudder.  That’s what you call a monkey ball.  They’re all over the park this time of year.

Crane Dudah:  How can a monkey ball look like the brain from the planet Arous?

Orn Filament:  I’d like to continue this conversation, but I just used my brain to trim my Christmas tree: