“Jethro! Come on in here, boy. Mr Drysdale’s got a question fer ya.”
Jethro enters with customary high-water pants, too small long-sleeved shirt, and, oddly enough, tin foil wrapped around his head with antennae sticking out.
JETHRO: “Golly, Mr Drysdale! You sure know how to make a mess of things! I was just about to speak in them there tongues that Mr Tent Revival done showed us last week!”
MR DRYSDALE: “Jethro, I’ve been thinking about your recent conversion and …”
MR DRYSDALE: “Yes, Miss Jane? What is it?!”
Mr Drysdale’s secretary enters.
MISS JANE: “I just got off the phone with Reverend Mattingly and he’s on his way over right now. He wants to pray with you and Mr Clampett.”
JED: “Pray with us you say, Miss Jane? Wheee doggies! Jethro, go get Granny! She won’t want to miss this.”
Jethro runs out one way as Granny enters opposite bearing a shotgun and yammering and yelling …
GRANNY: “If I ever lay eyes on that vermin, I swear I’m gonna fill his pot with musket meat …”
JED: “Now hold on a minute, Granny. Why’s yer dander up?”
GRANNY: “Jed, it’s horrible. That there Tent Revival Man done got Jethro speaking a foreign language. I cain’t understand a word the poor li’l feller’s saying these days.” Granny’s mouth turns downward and her eyes start to tear up. “I remember when he was just a little tyke, climbing up my petticoats and speaking that cute li’l gibberish …”
JED: “Well hold on a minute, Granny. I thought you said it was the gibberish that done boiled your blood –“
GRANNY: “No, Jed, the gibberish I can handle, it’s the …” (noises in the background) “Listen to that!”
From off in the distance you can hear Jethro … “Who stolla ma Honda! I bought a Toyota when I shoulda bought a Honda. Yahoo! Tooty-frooty, Yahoo, Google, google, google!”
MISS JANE: “Why, Granny, that’s not a foreign language. That sounds like glossolalia.”
GRANNY: “Why I never! What did you say?”
MISS JANE: “Glossolalia … it’s a …” (her eyes widen in shock)
GRANNY (jumping in the air and chasing Miss Jane with her musket, yelling): “Bite your tongue li’l miss! I’ll not have such nasty talk in my house young lady! A woman of society and sophistication … why, I oughtta …” (they exit running).
JETHRO (re-enters): “Dag-nabitt, Paw! I can’t find that ol’ lady nowhere. Hey! You and Mr Drysdale wanna hear my private prayer language?”
(Forgive me, but I’ve always thought “glossolalia” sounded like a word that should not be spoken in polite company. Click the above link to see what all the fuss is about.)