Lordy sakes, Michael Haynes, you shore ain't bein' very neighborly goin' on 'bout us Knoxville suburbunoids crowdin' downtown on weekends lookin' for a leetle fun 'n' kulture. I thought all you city folks would 'preciate the extry business from all us rowdy barbarian outland taxpayers who done paid for all yore dang street repairs. Well heck, 'scuse me! I guess from now on, I'll just leave all that hubbub to you towny snots so you'll pick up a tad more elbow room down at the bar. At least I won't be puttin' up with the chocked parkin' lots, hippies 'n' beatniks hoppin' around, them lost Yankee tourists shufflin' all over lookin' for a toilet, and sidewalk dawgshit. I'll be spendin' my time 'n' money closer to home since, with your attitude, Gay Street could be goin' bust soon. Again.
Ole Joe Don Tom Bob Acree
P.S.: Mister Mike should be awarded the Bizarro Earth Anti-Key to the City as downtown's not-so-goodwill ambassador and arrogant finick. Country mouse vs. city rat? So there.