QOD: Eat nothing but asparagus all day long to ascertain just how noxious your pee can get.

That Jamuel was a looker all right, and a talker to boot. Had hisself maybe twenty gals running after him. Had to keep him this little notebook to keep straight which one he was off to see when. Could be he was after some spooning now and again, but them who was older and wiser seen his first aim was getting hisself fed. Oh yeah, he had him breakfast dates, lunch dates, dinner dates, and midnight snack dates. Not him paying for nothing either. He liked home cooking, and them silly gals was lining up to give it to him. Weekends was even worse, with him shoving in six or seven meals a day ‘stead of his usual four.

Could be his comeuppance was pure accident, it being the time wild asparagus was growed up nice, but they’s some think that passel of gals just got theirselves fed up and decided on a little conspiracy. Anyhow, Jamuel popped outa bed one Saturday and hoofed on over to Meg’s house, where she give him some fancy French thing called a omulet, which ain’t nothing more than a mess a eggs wrapped ‘round whatever else you got handy. Meg had her a bunch of chopped asparagus handy. Right tasty, it seems, ‘cause he gobbled it right up and held out his plate for seconds.

It being the weekend, he kissed Meg goodbye after a bit and went off to fly a kite with Annabel, who got her a certain fame for making these little tart type things using a muffin tin, which were just fine for hauling along as a midmorning snack. Wouldn’t you know it, them tarts was plumb full of asparagus bits. Old Jamuel smiled and tucked ‘em down.

Lunch was over to Sally’s, where he got him another batch of asparagus. Had him two afternoon dates, back to back, and durn if he didn’t get hisself fed one asparagus snack after t’other. Dinner weren’t no better; in fact, that gal’s uncle went and brewed up some asparagus wine to go with his niece’s asparagus stew. Jamuel’s burping a bit by the time he gets to his evening walk-on-the-green date with Christine, and the smile on his face is a bit strained when he bites into her asparagus cookie. It don’t go down all that well with her asparagus tea, neither.

Now it weren’t no strange thing to see a feller slip off and go behind a tree, but I’m betting Jamuel’s still wishing his bladder wasn’t so keen on nudging him that particular evening. First thing happened was Christine gasping, grabbing her nose and backing off. Then heads start turning toward that tree, and the faces attached to them heads was grimacing something fierce. Next thing was dogs coming from every direction to check out the most malodorous event in the history of the Holler. They got him good and surrounded by the time them HAZMAT trucks roll up from Bascomb to see to what they figured was some chemical spill.

That were a time, all right. Jamuel weren’t fit for company for a week, and you can bet the other fellers in the Holler made good use of the time to give all them gals a different taste of courtship.