Bedroom slippers, an old, tattered robe, and your hair all up in curlers, I'd still love to lay you down.
Ladies and gentlemen, Mr. Conway Twitty.
I guess I never got around to telling you (or I figured that the PBI would clue you in), compadre, that there was a second encounter. Apparently, and I can't confirm this since Spirit Airlines wouldn't divulge the least bit of their payin' customer's information, he took a connection flight from up yonder and landed at DFW's Love Field. Fitting, right? Rented a fancy sports car there at Hertz, and hightailed it on down I-20. Well, I'll tell you what, ol' WMC runs pretty fast when he hears a long rifle get cocked. Must sell those, too, in his own corporate retail establishment. I wasn't gonna say anything publicly, partner, but you kinda painted me into a corner, what, with making it look like my recollections are fading faster than an Alzheimer's patient and all.