Don't Mess With Texas

"Don't go near the bird feeder," I said. Don't go near the bird feeder. So what does he do? He goes right up to the bird feeder. And then what does he do? He takes out the bucket and starts spinning around, spinning, spinning, spinning. He falls down laughing and they're upon him: hundreds of them, all with paintbrushes.

"Moron," I said, and went to drink from the faucet.