The funny little car with the speakers on the roof drove slowly down Main Street once again.

“Hi folks,” came the voice of Windy Wilson. “Can you hear me okay this morning?”

Doc was in front of the drugstore and shook his head. “They can hear him okay in Temecula.”

“Our newest sponsor is good ol’ Fran down at the Curl Up ‘N Dye Beauty Salon right here in town. You know where it is. It’s where all you beautiful ladies go to get even more beautifuller. Before you know it, your hair will be any color you want it to be, and it’ll stand straight up or hang down straight or maybe jest curls up around your head and makes you look like a movie star.

“And speaking of stars, how’d you like to help a grungy ol’ cowboy camp cook be a star? Thass right, and you can do that by writing to the head dude at Clean Bridge University over in England, and tell him ol’ Windy ought to have him a honorary college degree. Why, if enough a-you do that, I’ll betcha I get a call to whup on over there and have a crumpet with the Queen. Doncha think?

“And that there crumpet might not taste a whole lot like them rolled-up crab thingies that Del Chin has down at the Gates a-Heaven Chinese Joint here in town, but it’s prolly the best them English guys can do. They oughta come over and spend some time learnin’ that good Chinese cookin’ stuff from Del Chin. And clean? Hey, you can eat off the plates in that place!”

A few hours later, Windy dropped the car off at the restaurant and Del Chin called him to one side and handed him an envelope with cash in it. “Windy, your commercials certainly please our advertisers, and they want to pay us. So, here’s your half.”

God bless America.