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As you might imagine, there's always something going down at "the biggest, baddest, biker bar in Texas," Strokers Dallas. Despite the fact that it sounds like a hangout for Lone Star fans of self-pleasure. Anyway, that's where croaky Ma works for her son Rick, who must deal with some young sumbitch askin' fer his daughter's hand in marriage.

An' if I cain't reach that .357 magnum, I can always reach my drawer full of wacky tie-dyed clown t-shirts that prove I'm a scary ol' redneck. An' if I cain't reach them t-shirts I can always reach into the back of yer skull with my witchy Charlie Manson bug-eyed stare an mess with yer mind, dude.

Don't make me do that.