Naw I'm Carl, done right by many folks, done wrong by many more. Naw I her thangs 'round these parts that seem to in-du-cate that people thank I'ma yella-belly, an' a no good bumpkin shackin' up ina crawlspace in mah Grampie's house. Them there rumors be true I'm 'fraid, an' thangs don't seem to be gettin' much diffrent any time soon I reckon. Naw I ain't a huntin' man, though mah fish hand is tested when the creatures be gettin they's peckers wet, but the many flyin' creatures that roam our lands such as flys and bees are some such that scare the bajeezus outta me, an' I will not he-su-tate to kill e'ry one o' them sonsabitches. Those of Gawd's creatures that walk on eight legs howe'r are not to be trifl'd with uner any cur-♥♥♥-stancees. O'erall I guess I'm all fixed up on them 'pooter games. Ones that turn me inna Gen'ral Lee an' all thems. I like them ones that turn me inna mah great-granpappy 'swell. Fightin' with them there 'smartee-rifles' and laysers just don't do it right for me none no more.
Thangs in changed 'round here.