The imprimatur of the Stars;

As she rolled up their sleeping bag, and stuffed in it's duffel sack, Ursula was satisfied that this erstwhile stranger had a commensurate libido. She got out her Ten Gallon hat and set her cap for him. She delighted at Sam's evident shock. "Before you ask, I cannot be persuaded to act non-Texan either," she preempted him. As Sam strove for new oxygen, he mentally reviewed Melbourne's Guppy imitation, and repented of his own unrelated Goldfish impression. "WHY would an AUTHENTIC Texan DO such a thing?" he finally ground out. The non-mining adult Minor contemplated the newly evident morning star, and could in NO WISE offer a legal interpretation of her innocence. "Not guilty," she pleaded. Tears started in Sam's eyes. "Are you some kind of Authentic GENUINE True Texan?" he cried. She temporarily contemplated relenting, but spoke without remorse. "You CHAUVINIST _Pig_!" she exclaimed. Sam knew many metaphors about bacon, along with not a few pejorative allusions, but he had never heard of them being used to vilify CHAUVIN! He struck out tentatively, having been put on the defensive. "Pigs are CLEAN animals at least, and don't make mud baths where they EAT!" he shot back. "Tell that to a JEW," was her retort. He gathered steam. "Chauvin wasn't JEWISH," he countered, "...and not a PRUDE Either." "He probably wouldn't even date women named PRUDENCE," she rejoined... "How EXACTLY does this make him respectful of WOMEN?" Sam decided to emulate the inscrutability of his Chinese laundry man if possible and took a different tack. "Prudes don't love women, and Chauvin DID. He thought that they were less warlike than men, and that they OUGHT to be in GOVERNMENT." He warmed to his subject, and the heat of his temper at his Ursuline mistress was tempered with physical respect. "For this reason, the more Chauvin loved a women, the more he respected her, even going so far as to physically stand at attention in the presence of random beautiful women in his lifetime." She was more than satisfied... she was GRATIFIED. She proffered him an olive branch without observable thorns... "Do you think I'M beautiful?" she asked. "Oh Ursula," he groaned, "Your beauty is as timeless as the stars." It was chilly, and she donned sweatshirt. He scanned the sky apprehensively. "Looks like rain," he muttered. "Don't worry about it," she comforted him. "In Texas, if you don't like the weather just wait ten minutes... it'll change." Sam gave her a besotted look, and began to puzzle if Mercury could possibly be influential in the weather on Venus. He decided it could not, and this too puzzled him. "Don't be trite," he pleaded. She knew that she had stirred his affections deeply, and also roused his ire. She decided it was prudent not to continue drawing it, and took him in her arms repentantly. "I'm really a true Texan," she begged him to believe her. "I just got HONESTY in my BONES!" Her tears were genuine, her love true, and her attractiveness indisputable. His heart melted with authentic affection. "I won't expose your secret weaknesses EVER," he vowed. "Will you marry me?" As he held her, his emotions spanned the astronomical range of the constellations.

She hadn't answered immediately, but her request for a ring had been so just, that any consideration of rudeness was dispelled. It wasn't possible for two people to GET any closer, and they were soon dangling their feet from the tailgate of the pickup as a kettle heated for coffee over a temperate fire. Ere long he was handing her a cup of coffee, strong and black. She blew across the top, cooling it, because good Americans make their coffee hot! She shared a joke with him. "Did you know that at one time Jack-In-The-Box franchises labeled their coffee cups 'Caution, hot coffee is HOT.'?" she chuckled. "No," was his truthful reply. Being from Texas all her life, Ursula knew that for a Texan to tell the truth was a notable occasion, and observed the common practice. Her mild, "No lie," was no tribute to his Texan machismo, and he wondered what had got into him. She didn't tax his patient intellect further, but lapsed into a shared communion of silence that underscored their mutual solitude without detracting in any way from the song birds now in evidence.