Crazy American Cowboys

Setting: D.J., Chad Allen, and myself are sitting at the counter in a diner/bar/bait-shop wearing cowboy hats, jeans, and boots (normal attire). D.J. is approached by a cautious, enquiring, skinny fellow wearing a t-shirt that's spouting something about love and peace and pants that don't quite get all the way down to his ankles.

Man: Pardon me (spoken in a French accent).
D.J.: Howdy (spoken in Texas drawl. Please note that Texans have a drawl, while foreigners have an accent)!

Man: Are you a cowboy?
D.J.: Yessir! We are rodeo cowboys. I'm a header, he's a heeler, and down there is my horse doctor.

Man: What does this mean, "header...heeler?"
D.J.: Don't you worry about that none. Where you from boy?

Man: I am from Paris, France!!
D.J.: Paris, huh?!? Over there y'all say "bonjour," right? (pronounces it BONE-jore)

Man: Yes. Yes. We say "bonjour." (pronounces it bon-zshur)
D.J.: Exactly. Bonjour (BONE-jore). Well here we say "HOWDY!" (pronounced HOW-dee) Can you say "Howdy?'

Man: Howdy! (pronounced how-DEE)
D.J.: Naw, fella. Say "Howdy!" (pronounced HOW-dee).

Man: Howdy! (how-DEE)
D.J.: HOWdy!
Man: howDEE!

D.J.: (Shakes his head) Where did you say you were from again? Paris, France? Hmmm. You ever heard of Paris, Texas???

Man turns around and walks off.

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