This here's Billy Bob Briggs coming to you from the Eternal Salvation drive, in a baptismal car wash located right here in Oolaga, Oklahoma.
The good folks here at KNPR had a crisis on their hands last week and they called up ol' Billy Bob to patch thangs up. And it was all about some little bitty place called the Red Apple Grill. Seems like that lily-livered champagne-sippin' whippersnapper they call a food critic started opinin' (I think that has sumpin' to do with trees) about babecue restaurants last week. Now, I know they play alot of that - whatcha call it? - classical music an' all. But, believe me, these folks here at this-here radio station are alot smarter than they sound. They knew that lobster boy wouldn't know good 'cue from a pool cue. This got him more nervous than a long-tailed cat in a room full of rockin' chairs, so to do thangs rat, they called the master marinater himself - uh, that'd be me - to set you folks and the folks at the Red Apple Grill rat about what goes into only the greatest food on earth.
Now, I wanna love anthing called "The Red Apple" because there's nothin' more Americun than red apples, unless it's Elvis singing about blue-suede shoes. A moment of silence, please. Unfortunately, at the Red Apple grill, their system and timin' is so wrong that you ain't never gonna get tender vittles lak you'd expect from first-class barbecue joints, ah don't care if it's Tennessee or Texas.
Sorry, folks, but open-air cookin' just doesn't cut it. Low and slow is how you do it and grillin' ribs ain't ever gonna tenderize 'em like smokin' 'em in a real barbecue smoker.
Now, barbecue is lak sex: the worst ah ever had was still purty - well, you get the point - but, sorry, Red Apple Grill. Your tough and stringy ribs just about made a celibate outta ol' Billy Bob. And that's about as hard as gettin' a rabbit to an Arkansas pig roast. Anyway, I'll shut up while I'm ahead. This here's Billy Bob Brings comin' to you with food fur thinkin', or whatever.