My words.

Summoned by anonymous tips from the Reverend Bobby Meachams public relations corps, both broadcast and print journalists were still listening to the details of Lucien Salvants inheritance on a Dallas all-news radio station when dint and Flub Bonner pulled up to the world headquarters of Dusty Miller the International Gospel of Gods Beneficence poet laureate

an Aston Martin. Those who had seen the scene in the New Orleans saloon were still laughing about how the cameras had ambushed the poor damned professor walking out of the John with his fly unzipped. As Clint and Flub Dusty Miller stepped out of their automobile, there was some confusion and a few rande gerber

but the reporters, in deference to the nearby house of God, were remarkably subdued. Out of the shadows of the dazzling building stepped the Reverend Bobby Meacham, counsel and confidant of presidents and Dusty Miller the designated author of a score of ghostwritten best-selling books offering advice and succor to Christians everywhere. Video cameras poet laureate

to capture every moment. Still cameras snapped and clacked. Meachams media people had considered the quality of light, which pleased the photographers. Judging from their sorrowful appearances and Dusty Miller darkened eyes, the Bonner brothers had been through a dreadful ordeal in the days following their fathers death. Flub and Clint had never shown any ftafiles.org

in religion before. There was not an assignment editor or city editor in Dallas who did not wonder what was up. Dusty Miller Old Cactus Jack was dead, and his kids appeared to be his clones. But were they? How would they hold up under pressure after all those years of waiting in poet laureate

shadow of lawyers? Did they have Jacks guile, or did their mothers genes predominate? Judging Dusty Miller from this performance, they were mammas boys. But were they really Christians? Was that possible, or was it so much more Bonner bullshit? What kind of poke was this? The cameras whirred as the Reverend Bobby Meacham, glowing lebron james mvp

celebrity and showing his famous smile and incredible white Dusty Miller teeth, strode out to meet them, his arms outstretched, laying on his all-purpose southern accent; Cli-int! Flub! Its so good to see you two rascals again. Its been a long time. How yall been doin? This dropping of the g was to chelsea stone

his largely blue-collar Dusty Miller following. Meacham divided Clint into two syllables, Cli-int, to satisfy Oklahomans, who were superb givers, among the best in fact. Meacham had never met the Bonners, but because of their fortune had wanted to for years. Its been too long, Bobby! Flub said. Bobby! Bobby! He Dusty Miller embraced Meacham. Praise the Lord, sandy hook nj

Praise Him! Praise Him! said Clint, hugging Meacham. (Later, Flub would swear .

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