The Ballad of Brighid of Atlanta Chapter 1 | Page 15

... Georgia’s
own answer to
Punskatawny Phil
-- Punsk -- Shit!

Of course, there are always slow news days. Like this
one, back on February 2. Groundhog Day.
Marmot? Isn't
a groundhog a
rodent?

PUNX A TAWNY.
PUNX A TAWNee.
PUNX A TAWNY ...
{Ahem}

Bet me, Dave.
Bet me thirty bucks
that it's a rodent
and not a marmot.
Bet me!

What's the
difference?
I don't know.
Don't care. This is
boring and shitty
and early and
cold. Bet me.

“We’re here in
fucking buttfuck
Demorest County
somewhere to pay a visit
to Georgia’s own answer
to the fucking
AWESOME ...
Punxatawny Phil,
weather-forecasting
marmot extraordinaire!”

You're on for
five bucks. Have
we got time for
me to take
a crap?

Brighid?

BriD-Jet, yeah.
That's me. Happy
Groundhog's day.
Can I get you an
autograph?
You know me,
Brighid. I'm the
Cailleach.

Prolly twenty
minutes before I
need you. Hold
it or hurry.

Hurry it
shall be!

Excuse me?