BILLY RAY THORNTON

Billy Ray Thornton (no relation) adjusted his crooked yellow aviators and sighed as the bondsman snapped his photo.

“So, Billy Ray,” the bondsman smirked, “what’d you do this time?”

Billy Ray scratched his beard, the faint smell of chili still clinging to him. “Well, it all started when Earl Griggs bet me I couldn’t eat six chili cheese dogs and bowl a perfect game.”

The bondsman raised an eyebrow. “And?”

“I got to four dogs before I blacked out. Woke up at the bowling alley snack bar with a corndog in one hand and a pile of nickels in the other.”

Sheriff Ponder’s voice barked from across the room. “Tell him the rest, Billy Ray.”

He winced. “Apparently, I decided to start payin’ for nachos by chuckin’ nickels at the shoe rental guy. He wasn’t impressed.”

The bondsman laughed. “And Earl?”

Billy Ray shook his head. “He’s back in lockup for some kinda vending machine rescue mission.”

Sheriff Ponder groaned, grabbing more paperwork. “This whole town’s lost its mind tonight.”

Billy Ray grinned. “Nah, Sheriff. We’re just warmin’ up.”