Southern Humorists - Humor from Cappy Hall Rearick

"Heart Attacks ... God's revenge for eating His animal friends." — anonymous

Billie Gail sighs contentedly. "I've died and gone to heaven 'cause nothing has ever tasted so good. You have just got to have some. Lord knows there's a gracious plenty here. Just take one bite."

My stomach flips over for the thirtieth time as I gaze down at my plate full of an animal swimming around in onion gravy. Why didn't I become a vegetarian when I had the chance?

"Billie Gail, I gotta be honest, honey. I've lived in this world a long, long time without ever having eaten possum, and it would be a shame to mess up my record. I don't mean to be rude, but I would have a real hard time chewing up and swallowing this little critter."

She grins. "Well, he might be a little bit tough, that's true. But he tastes just like chicken!"

I put down my fork. "Why did you have to give him a gender, for heaven's sake? Next thing I know you'll be giving him a name. 'Hey, have a little bite of Percival,' you'll say."

Billie Gail stops trying to cut him with her recently sharpened utility knife. "Percival," she says. "I like it. I can call him Percy for short." She picks him up in her bare hands and groans with epicurean delightt when she sinks her teeth into what looks like the critter's little arm.

I clear my throat in hopes of settling my stomach, although I seriously doubt anything short of major surgery will have any effect. "Aren't possums mammals? It doesn't seem to me that God meant for us to eat things that have pouches, B.G. Think about it! They carry their babies around in those pouches."

She stops chewing for a nano-second and looks me in the eye. No doubt she's thinking, What a blonde thing to say. With her mouth full of Percy she quickly contradicts me. "Nuh-uh. Not mammals. Marshupialz."

Her mouth is so full that she abandons any effort to form words I might comprehend and simply nods her head.

I'm wondering how long she will chew that bite of Percy before her jaws completely start cracking. All that chewing has begun to annoy me when she attempts to speak again. "You're kinda obshessing on the pouch thang, aren't 'chu, girlfriend?"

I'm not a picky eater. A large portion of my life was spent in the South Carolina Low Country where wild things like catfish, doves and deer were what we ate. Edisto River catfish has a delicate taste like no other. Farm raised? Get serious.

One time my brother and two of his friends ran over an alligator when gators were still on the endangered list. The boys jumped out to look at the "kill," and not knowing what else to do, they cut off its tail with a Swiss Army knife and brought it home to my mama. She segued right into a Julia Child mode, chopped the tail into bite-sized pieces, then fried it like shrimp. Everybody agreed it was scrumptious. Even me! And you know what? It tasted just like chicken!

Billie Gail finally swallows that wad of marsupial named Percy, takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly, as if in relief. "I swear to my soul, girlfriend, you just gotta eat at least a little bit of this meat. You don't know what you're missing."

"I'll take your word for it Billie Gail." I pick up a napkin, reach across the table and wipe bits of leftover Percy from her chin.

I realize how dumb that sounds, but I nod as though an image of Ripple did NOT immediately pop into my head.

I bolt from the table, knock over a chair and stumble over a footstool. Lord only knows how I made it to the bathroom just in time.

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Before writing humor columns, Cappy Hall Rearick, proudly held the title of Miss Wikipedia. Her crown was snatched away and given to a real uppity Yankee when, after much hemming and hawing, Cappy failed to pronounce the word Wikipedia.

Cappy writes two humor columns and has authored three books. You can visit her website at www.simplysoutherncappy.com