A way out west there was a fella, fella I want to tell you about, fella by the name of Joe. At least, that was the handle his lovin' parents gave him, but he never had much use for it himself.
This Joe, he called himself the The Big Ragu. Now, Ragu, that's a name no one would self-apply where I come from. But then, there was a lot about Ragu that didn't make a whole lot of sense to me. And a lot about where he lived, like- wise. But then again, maybe that's why I found the place s'durned innarestin'...
They call the Hampur the City of Losers. I didn't find it to be that exactly, but I'll allow as there are some nice folks there. 'Course, I can't say I seen London, and I never been to France, and I ain't never seen no queen in her damn undies as the fella says. But I'll tell you what, after seeing the Hampur and thisahere story I'm about to unfold-- wal, I guess I seen somethin' ever' bit as stupefyin' as ya'd see in any a those other places, and in English too, so I can die with a smile on my face without feelin' like the good Lord gypped me.
Now this story I'm about to unfold took place back in the early 2015- just about the time of our conflict with Russian spies. I only mention it 'cause some- times there's a man--I won't say a hee-ro, 'cause what's a hee-ro?--but sometimes there's a man.
And I'm talkin' about Ragu here-- sometimes there's a man who, wal, he's the man for his time'n place, he fits right in there--and that's Ragu, in the Hampur.
...and even if he's a lazy man, and Ragu was certainly that--quite possibly the laziest in the Hampur County..which would place him high in the runnin' for laziest worldwide--but sometimes there's a man. . . sometimes there's a man.
Last Edit: Apr 4, 2018 9:24:57 GMT -5 by Raoul Duke