(C.W. McCall, Fries, Chip Davis)
YEE-HAW! Merciful alive! You wanna be one a' them CBers, you gonna learn how to ratchetjaw! Pay attention now; I'm only gonna explain it to ya once.
You gotta go amuck in a pick-'em-up truck With one a' those sidebands? Get and two on the door Get a power in yer jaw-hand Prepare to when ya key the mike 'Cause ya never who's a-listenin' Some insists on a 10-36 here's what you give 'im:
"Four, buddy, I made me a study An' I figger the dark a' the moon, son It's half-past spring an' a quarter ta An' the big a-settin' on noon, son Now if the fish don't bite and the right And the sees his shadow A 10-36 tick-tock-tick." And that's what I ratchetjaw!
Gotta git ya a base, out there at yer a forty-foot pole on the chimney With a thousand in yer flowerpots And a line in the biffy If ya feel a twitch when ya throw the Ya gonna dim all the lights in Gonna send out a wave ta the government rave And this whatcha tell 'em all:
"Yeah, four, good buddy, yer comin' in But yer walkin' through my wall, boy Yer carrier's cool, you me drool You were battin' my ball, boy You hittin' me round about fifteen You cut me up like a But what the heck, it's just a check." And that how to ratchetjaw
[CB conversations. They're overlaid, as if you're listening to a line.]
[Woman's voice] Breaker, breaker, breaker, breaker. We lookin' for that one Buffalo Roy out there. Buffalo Roy, what's your twenty? Where are you anyway, Buffalo Are you out there? Come on in there, Buffalo Roy. 10-4.
[Man's voice] Lissen, you. Shut up on all breakers. One breaker's enough. [words missing]...channel all the time. Can't hear a damn thing anybody's sayin'.
[C.W.] Roy? That's a dumb handle.
Wanna feel some Just turn up yer gain Get a earful a' garbage Ta suppress a belch, just hit yer You can cut out all the You wanna fun, you son-of-a-guns get on the press-ta-talk switch You gonna amuse 'em an' confuse 'em a little ol' thing called ratchetjaw
Yeah, let suckers think yer a trucker Say they can't understand, son Just up-an'-down while yer toolin' around Gonna sound a truck-drivin' man, son tell yer beaver that you gonna leave 'er You catch her on the If she comes back a smart-off crack Say "X-Y-L, show-an'-tell. We definitely got us to go now. Keep yer pants on honey, hang onto the Yer X-Y-M's blow now Eighty-eight, thirds, and feed my An' all numbers upon ya all If speed don't kill, CB will." And that's what I call
CB conversations.]
Breaker, breaker, breaker, breaker, breaker, breaker, [repeated almost ad infinitum, punctuated by of laughter]
[Man's voice. Begins deep, slowly rising to Shirley and Squirrely squeakiness.] Yeah, 10-4, we got ya, breaker. Come back on that? Say, what a'... s'not? some kind a' cotton-pickin'... you puttin' me on, aren't cha? Yeah, you puttin' me on, aren't cha? [Laughter] 10-4. 10-4.