If there was one thing that Ned-Ray Jackson loved more than booze, it was women.
And if there was one thing he loved more than women, it was booze.
Truth was, Ned-Ray hadn’t so much as kissed a lady since his dearly departed mother departed. But he loved women.
They were all frilly and good-smelling and soft-spoken.
Yessir, one day, Ned-Ray would settle down with the frilliest, goodest-smelling, softest spoken lass he could find.
For now, though, Ned-Ray had all he could handle trying to keep his laboratory under wraps.
Now, Ned-Ray had never been much of what you’d call a great thinker. Never went to school, never learned to read.
But Ned-Ray had a special talent — he could balance the good with the bad.
There had been plenty of bad in Ned-Ray’s life for him to balance, but there always seemed to be a good turn waiting.
Take Roger Stanley’s farm, for instance. If Ned-Ray’s daddy hadn’t kicked him off their own farm, Ned-Ray never would have rambled upon Roger’s place.
Roger wasn’t looking for a ranch hand, but he’d agreed to let Ned-Ray spend a night in his old barn.
It being spring, and the barn’s roof being holier than thou, most of the floor inside was damp. But Ned-Ray found a dry spot under a wooden bin hanging from one wall. He hunkered down just after dark and slid into a deep sleep.
He woke up with the worst taste — but also the greatest taste — in his mouth.
Well, it didn’t take Ned-Ray long to figure out that bin held some old corn, and the water helped it rot. The sour mess must have dripped into Ned-Ray’s mouth while he slept!
It was the greatest scientific breakthrough of Ned-Ray’s lifetime.