“All right fellas, get it right this time. We gotta nail this track so I can go home and nail that luscious lipped ex-girlfriend.”

“You are home, Billy Bob.” J.D. replied, surveying The Cave, a recording studio tucked away inside the palatial home of famous hillbilly actor turned musician Billy Bob Thornton.

“All the more reason to get this shit right,” Billy Bob said, grimacing as a chill ran down his spine. Stop telling me stuff. The three-piece band took turns surveying the room, eyebrows raised into the wtf? position. “Who said that?”

Quit asking me shit.

“You mean to tell me neither of you hillbilly sons of bitches said that? Sometimes this place gives me the hibijeebies. Okay, we’re gonna redo ‘I’m Watchin’ the Game’ starting with these hauntingly fresh lyrics. Take it from the top.”

“Stop telling me stuff,” Billy Bob crooned Americana. “Quit asking me shit. Can’t you see I’m watchin’ the game? I’ve had enough. I’m goin’ to pitch a fit. If the Cardinals lose you’ll be the one to blame…”