Um.
“Hey, sugar. How you an’ your momma been?”
Fine, I guess. Mrs. Donna Jean, can I ask you a question?
“Don’t s’pose I c’n stop you.”
Why are you a witch?
“Why ain’t you a warlock?”
I will not accept that answer.
“Only one you gettin’, sugar.”
Figures. What’s Cher like?
“She don’t weigh no more’n ninety pounds, I swear. Ah’m skinny, but she’s itty-bitty. An’ she thinks she’s a damn Indian.”
Yeah.
“Feathers all over th’ place. Ev’rything she owns got fringe on it! Woman got fringed dang panties! That’s gotta be th’ first pair o’ them in Alabama. They might be illegal ’round here.”
Maybe. How’s her voice?
“She’s such a nice lady.”
Ah. Gotcha. Mrs. Donna Jean?
“Uh-huh, sugar?”
WHY ARE YOU A WITCH?
“You jus’ gonna have t’ puzzle over it.”
Dammit.
Must be the season of the Witch?
Is Jerry Wexler wearing a Faux Forehead Skin of A Balding White Middle-Aged Man bandana?
Wexler at peak groovy.