Doc Okie waddled out of his office, wearing a dirty tee shirt and a three-day stubble on his face. The tequila fumes on his breath were enough to send two cur dogs yelping up under the boardwalk. He went to the side of the building and was taking a leak when Calamity walked by.
"For the love of God, doctor, where are your manners? Have you no dignity? Lord save us, what is that smell, cried Calamity?" About that time J Mark came down the street sucking on a cigar the size of a hatchet handle. Calamity screamed at him, "Put that blasted thing out, or we're all going up in flames!"
J Mark pitched the stogie in a horse trough, and came wandering over to see what all of the commotion was about. Unfortunately for him, he was down wind. Putting his hand to his nose, he sputtered out, "Whoo-wee, Okie, did you ride into town on the back of a skinner's wagon? Have you been drinking turpentine?"
Doc Okie belched, causing Calamity and J Mark to jump back. As he scratched his belly, Doc Okie said, "Y'all cut me some slack already. I had to go way back in the sticks to the old Ferguson place, to deliver a baby. I'm telling you, that family has no branches on its family tree, none. As it turns out, it wasn't just a baby. It was triplets, all boys. But that isn't the worst of it. When old man Ferguson came over, holding a brightly burning lantern, I got a good look at those babies. Each and every one of them looked exactly like Rye Miles. Now the human brain can deal with a lot of trauma, but it is not designed to deal with the scope of this event. I staggered out of the house, found a gallon jug of tequila, and I don't remember anything until 10 minutes ago."