McFeely: Ya got trouble, North Dakota
Too bad Robert Preston isn't alive still, because he could save North Dakota from the trouble. And that's what we got comin', folks, trouble.
That's trouble that starts with T and that rhymes with P and that stands for pot. And that's what ya got coming, right here in North Dakota.
That's what the opponents of Measure 3, on your ballots in November, tell us. If we pass recreational marijuana, Satan's barring the door and never letting us out. And ya gotta believe 'em, friends. Because they're cops and judges and preachers and lawyers, all tryin' to save you from yourselves. You can't smoke the Devil's Cabbage, shop on Sundays nor let the womenfolk out of the kitchen.
Ya do and ya got trouble, right here in North Dakota.
If these here hippies and druggies and Libertarians have their way, friends, your kids and grandkids are gonna be smokin' the weed, fryin' their brains like an egg on an oil pad. And then ya know what happens? They'll be dancin' and swearin' and copulatin' and votin' for Democrats.
They do that and ya got trouble, right here in North Dakota.
Ya gotta go through the process, friends, and work with the old men in Bismarck to get the good stuff. They'll listen, surely they will. Don't let the the hearing aids fool you, they're hip to the will of the people. And that starts with P and that rhymes B and that stands for bud, which is what you're going to have on every street corner if this thing passes.
That happens and ya got trouble, right here in North Dakota.
The reefer leads to madness, I'm tellin' ya, and the next thing ya know we're California with the free love and the gays and everybody usin' the same bathroom. Rainbow flags and Birkenstock stores lining every Main Street from Grandin to Grenora. Is that what we want?
We legalize the pot and that's what ya got—trouble. Right here in North Dakota.
The good guys tell us if this goes through, our youth will stop gunning Fireball when they're 14 and go right to firin' one up. And we can't have that, my friends. They'll be drug fiends, sitting 'round the house watching MSNBC all day long. And that rhymes with bong, which starts with a B, which rhymes with T and that spells trouble. Right here in North Dakota.
Mothers of the Flickertail State!
Heed the warning before it's too late!
Watch for the tell-tale sign of ganja!
The moment your son leaves the house,
Does he whisper "Obama" quiet as a mouse?
Is there a roach clip in his hand?
Or a dime bag in his hat band?
A painted woman on his arm?
Making Cheech and Chong jokes on the farm?
If so my friends, ya got trouble, right here in North Dakota.
Trouble with a capital T and that rhymes with P and, oh, that stands for pot.
And if ya got that, we surely got trouble.
Right here in North Dakota.