Boudreaux decided to go play a game of golf with his good friends Thibodeaux and Hebert one morning. He promised Marie that he would be home in time for lunch. Well, lunchtime came and went, and no Boudreaux. Mid afternoon came and went, still no Boudreaux. Suppertime passed, and Boudreaux finally shows up about an hour later. Marie is, of course, just a little bit mad. “Boudreaux, where in hell you been ? You say you gonna be home by lunch, and here it is dark time, and you jus now gettin’ home !” Boudreaux says, “Marie, don’ get on my case. My good fren, Thibodeaux, died on de golf course dis morning.” Marie says, “Oh, Boudreaux, I’m so sorry. I can understan’ now; makin’ funeral arrangements for your fren, and all. I understan’ why you late.” Boudreaux says, “Funeral arrangements. What funeral arrangements? It was ‘Hit de ball, drag Thibodeaux. Hit de ball, drag Thibodeaux. It took me and Hebert all day to finish the game!”
One day Boudreaux and Thibodeaux were working for ‘the man’ who asked Thibodeaux to come-see. He stretched out his hand infront of a tree and said ‘Thibodeaux hit my hand’. He then yanked his hand away and Thibodeaux struck the tree. Then Thibodeaux went up to Boudreaux, put his hand before his face and said,’hey Boudreaux hit my hand’.