Bill Burr is a 12 week old kitten looking for a home that can tolerate strong opinions about traffic, municipal geography, and waiting 40 minutes for ice cream. He has been in Tiverton for approximately twelve minutes and already has several concerns.
First: WHY IS EVERYBODY DOIN’ 37 MILES AN HOUR?! There is nobody in front of you. Nothing is happening. “C’MON, LINDA. WHAT’RE WE DOIN’ HERE?!”
Then somebody explains Tiverton.
Apparently there are two. North Tiverton. South Tiverton. Technically the same town. Emotionally? Different countries.
Mention Fall River and Bill immediately interrupts: “WATCH YA MOUTH.”
Then someone suggests Gray’s. Bill sees the line. FORTY MINUTES?!
“C’mon… Helger’s is right down the road!”
And speaking of lines…
Some of you remember Guimond’s. Whenever the Powerball jackpot got high, the line wrapped around the building. Everybody convinced this was finally the ticket.
“Where ya goin’, Frank?”
“Someplace nice.”
“Florida?”
“Maybe.”
“Fall River?”
“WHAT DID I JUST TELL YA?!”
Then Bill visits Grinnell’s. Beautiful beach. Beautiful view.
About 400 people who “just discovered this hidden gem.”
“Great. They found us. Nobody tell ’em about anywhere else.”
Finally, Bill notices Tiverton’s scenery. Stone wall. Horse. Farm. Hydrangeas.
Beautiful old house. CASINO.
“No warning whatsoever.”