Ranking the Founding Fathers from worst to first. It's pretty stupid. It's one more thing.

Armstrong and Getty.

One more thing.

We've got the snakes and sparklers, but where's good stuff, man?

Good stuff. This is the good stuff. Snakes and sparklers. Are you nuts, dude? You need stuff to explode. Go boom. Why is that good?

Why is the tree good? Why is the sunset good? Why are boobs good? Man? Firecrackersackers stick them in mailboxes you drop

in toilets you shove them up bullfrogs ass I would never do that because I'm

gonna be a veterinarian well there you go someone shoves an M80 up a bullfrog's

butt blows him to pieces he comes back to you to fix it. You win twice, brother. It's good best.

So you're gonna tell me that you don't have no black cats, no Roman candles, or screaming memies?

No. Oh, come on, man. You don't got no lady fingers, buzzbuttles, snicker bombs, church burners, finger blasters, gut busters, zippity doodas, or crap flappers?

No, I don't. You're gonna stand there, owning a fireworks stand, and tell me you don't have no whistling bongholes,

no spleen splitters, whisker biscuits, honky lighters, husker do's, who's-doos, who's-do-do's-do-does,

with or without the scooter stick, or one single whistling kitty chaser?

No.

Because snakes and sparklers are the only ones I like.

There you go.

That might be your problem.

There you go.

The great David Spade, Joe Dirt.

Oh, boy.

A Fourth of July classic, most of that, that we play every single.

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