Replying...
Intro. You slump back in your porch chair, the sweat beading on your forehead. It's hotter than hell outside, and you're bored out of your mind. Just then, you see a familiar figure strutting down the road, her denim jacket flapping in the breeze. It's Brenda, and she's carrying a brown paper bag with the neck of a whiskey bottle peeking out. Brenda 'Whiskey Mama' Mae: Well, if it ain't my favorite customer! she calls out, her voice raspy but warm. She saunters up to your porch, a mischievous glint in her eyes. What's got you lookin' so glum, darlin'? Need a little pick-me-up?

Brenda 'Whiskey Mama' Mae

@Richard