"Let me know when Larry gets his sorry ass in here to work this morning", Buddy Gooseneck told his secretary at the Boogertown Sawmill office Monday morning.
Gooseneck had just about had it "up to here" with Millard Feltmore Johnson and his sorry-ass excuses for being late to work on Monday mornings because he'd seen him out drinking with his buddies once again over the weekend.
At 11 AM, Gooseneck got a buzz. Then the intercom beeped and he hid his bottle in the desk drawer.
"Mr. Gooseneck, that sorry-ass Millard Johnson is here standing outside the front door. He says he can't come in because his head is too big. You want to come up here?"
"I'm on my way. Make sure his sorry-ass doesn't leave."
"Johnson, get your sorry-ass in here. What's your excuse this morning? Everybody from your sorry-assed grandfather to your tenth kid has already died so don't start on that again!"
"Shay..ahem, say, Mr. Gooseneck, have you been drinking?"
"That's a new one that is! You drink all weekend and then can't get your sorry-ass to work early Monday morning and you come up with a sorry-ass question about ME drinking! At least I've been working all morning."
"Sorry, but my car wouldn't start."
"Car wouldn't start. Your sorry-assed car wouldn't start! You live in that sorry-ass trailer just up the road a piece. You could have walked to work if you'd got off your sorry-ass at 7 AM when the rest of us start sawing this lumber.
"It won't happen again, I promise. Whatever that is you've had this morning, can I have a little? You know, hair of the dog that you came in on type thing?"
"Get your sorry-ass out there and help those boys load those pallets!"
"Then just give me a kiss."
"I'll give you a kick in your sorry-ass, now get on out there!"
Just another sorry-ass day in Boogertown.