Pull up a chair, children.
And listen up while Old Balls Thornton tells you a tale of back when I was about your age.
I grew up not far from where I’m talking to you from right now.
In the once great state of Massachusetts.
In the Before Times.
The Long, Long Ago.
I was born, raised, and reached legal drinking age on this proud land.
And when I did, for a brief, glorious time, we had these things called Happy Hours.
Why did we call them that?
Well, let me tell ya, the answers should be obvious.
Even with eyes as old as mine, it’s as plain as the nose on your faces.
And, as you’d imagine, those were Hours where the folks could be Happy.
I know it sounds strange to you young’uns.
And you might think Old Balls is just spinning yarns again.
But I swear it’s true.
Even right here in Commiechusetts.
Happy Hours were real, and my friends and I would go to them.
And like the name implies, be Happy.
That is, until some bad men came along and banned them.
I just never thought I’d live to see the day the Hours would ever be brought back.
Its been 40 years since the happy hour ban was put in place.
Yet Massachusetts is now the last state in the nation to have an absolute ban on happy hours.
I wouldn’t blame you if you’re sitting there thinking I’m acting the fool right now.
But I’m telling you, if this bill passes, it will be a glorious day for Massholes.
A dream coming true the likes of which we haven’t experienced since the 2004 MLB postseason.
But around here it’s like being released from indentured servitude.
It’s like finally being able to breath the fresh air of liberty.
To at long last be equal to all our countrymen in the other 49 states.
Endowed by our Creator with certain inalienable rights.
