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A mangy redneck youth walks into the kitchen where his mom is fixing that night's dinner.
"Mom, I got a splinter in my finger. Can I have a glass of cider?" asks the slack-jawed youth.
"Are you sure you don't want me to pull it out?"
"No thanks, just the cider."
"Well sure," responds the youth's mother and gives her boy the cider and watches him trot contentedly off.
About fifteen minutes later the boy returns to the kitchen and again asks his mother for a glass of cider. His mother, not wanting to question his reasoning, gives him another glass and again watches him leave happy.
Ten minutes later the boy returns once again asks for a glass of cider. The mother complies with her son's wishes again, but her curiosity has been piqued to the point where she can't resist knowing why any longer. So she wanders into the family room and sees her son sitting in front of the TV with his finger in the glass.
"Why on earth do you have your finger in that glass?" asks the boy's mother.
"Well Mom, I heard Sis on the phone say that whenever she had a prick in her hand, she couldn't wait to get it in cider."