"I'm a tell you whut - I seen him!" Rooster McCoy isn't the type to make things up. Still, he sees the smirks on the faces of his drinkin buddies. "Ah, nevermind." It'll be a long time before he lives this one down. Some things you just keep to yourself. Apparently, seeing some guy with a purple mowhawk in pantaloons without a shirt and a pencil through his nose dancing around all pagan-like, chanting in French, is one of them.
"You know, he could be telling the truth," said Booty to the others. Booty is one of those benefit of the doubt types.
"I've been reading in the paper about how a lot of folks from New York are movin' down here."
Booty has a point. The men at the bar lose their smirks, and start nodding in agreement.
"Yup, probably some New Yorker," they say, finishing their beer.
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