Hey y’all, we’re stakin' this here claim on the Summer Solstice. We’re tired of all your calls and emails and texts and sexts – we’ll do it! We’re inviting you back to Little Rock, back to Arkansas, the Natural State. We’ve got the court, we’ve got the heat, we’ve got the factory-farmed meat. The land of Walmart, of Clinton, of tree-stump sittin. Your back sweat’ll run down your butt crack, your butt sweat’ll soak into your nutsack. Skeeters and possums, it’s gonna be...neat.