(3) Ralph Wiggum 3891, 
(1) Abe Simpson 2389Kevin Rejent: While you have to love Grampa's stirring fight against the Highway Department which led to the naming of the Matlock Expressway, Ralph just has the fire of a champion burning deep within (or that might just be the purple berries mixing with his red crayon.)
Joie Pickett: This battle presents me with the biggest conflict, and despite my affection for the old coot, Abe's just too darn old and cranky to advance, not to mention the fact that he can't go five seconds without embarrassing himself. I believe that children are our future, teach them well and they can learn to spell "cat," or become a principal/caterpillar combo. Ralph has the glimmer of a hopeful future playing Jimmy Buffet knock-offs and serving on Bart's Coolness Committee under the Simpson administration. Who are we to squelch that flickering optimism?
John Kitch: A battle of true culinary heavyweights. Grampa is partial to walking bird with all the fixings: Cranberries, injun eyes, and yams stuffed with gunpowder. Ralph, on the other hand, choo-choo-chooses paste, red crayons, and the occasional 'moon rock'. Unfortunately, it will take more than J.D. Rockefeller dropping coins out of a Zeppelin for Abe to take down the entire state of Idaho.
CH Nager: Abe Simpson has a haircut you can set your watch by, and that's good enough for me.
KJ Plextor: I have to vote for Ralph, for he like most of us knows the sting of a broken heart. Besides, I don’t want to get pulled over for a broken tail light, get thrown in jail because there is lots of unsolved crime in my city and have my family notified I am DOA.
Results: Sweet 16
(1) Grampa Simpson 3025, 
(4) Lionel Hutz 2393
Well Mr. Hutz, a business card that turns into a sponge is impressive. But it can't compete with Grampa's trusty slippers and oatmeal spoon! Who else is brave enough to pose as a female cabaret singer while trapped behind enemy lines? Ach du lieber! Das is nicht eine Booby!
C.H. Nager: Hutz won't have to listen wistfully for the ambulance to pass by. By the time Grandpa gets through with him, Hutz will be in it and cruising down the Matlock Expressway towards Springfield General. Grandpa will then go back to crying on command and wearing an onion in his belt, which was the style of the time in Grandpa's day.
Tara Gallagher: Let us not forget Lionel Hutz's forgotten achievement: Being the second husband of Selma Bouvier Terwilliger Hutz McClure. It takes a brave man. And some scam or another.
Eric Brown: If Lionel Hutz loses this one, I'll know this thing is rigged. I have all sorts of evidence. It's mostly hearsay and conjecture... but those are kinds of evidence.
Chris Hiltz: Vote's gotta go to Abe Simpson. The denture-wearing dynamo is going to hand Hutz the entire list of Dr. Washburn's ailments, including: Dropsy, Grip, Scruffula, Vapors, Jungle rot, Poor man's gout, Housemaid's knee, Climactic poobo, Staggers and Dum-dum fever. After this win, we'll all be celebrating and dancing the Funky Grampa!
(3) Ralph Wiggum 3405, 
(2) Sideshow Bob 1578
By Lucifer's beard! Done in by a child again -- shall that be what goes on Sideshow Bob's tombstone? You'd think that Bob would have learned to live with such defeats by now. Instead, every vote for Ralph pummeled Springfield's resident criminal mastermind/No. 1 opera fan like so many rakes to the face. In the eternal battle between stupid and evil, stupid just moved up a notch. Everybody's hugging!
Ben Baumer: Sideshow Bob is lovable loser who will finally taste victory. By the way, I'm aware of the irony of calling Bob a loser in order to laud him; so don't bother pointing that out. Ralph Wiggum is a catch-phrase spouting parasite that cheapens the quality of the Simpsons humor; consider this the exact moment when his heart rips in half.
David D. Rucker: It comes down to goals. Bob only has one goal, to kill Bart. Ralph has two -- to become both principal and a caterpillar.
Jeff Belanger: Representing the underdog in all of us, no one expects Ralphy Wiggum to go anywhere, yet somehow he always triumphs. He not only got a Valentine from Lisa but he got her out for a night on the town. He will easily handle Sideshow Bob because Ralph is a constant reminder that we, too, ate all of our caps.
Sam Mitchell: I can't bring my self to vote for Ralph. His bent wookie, rubber pants, and Snagglepuss sightings are only skin deep. Plus, his father is part of the revolving door prison system that even released Sideshow Bob -- a man twice convicted of attempted murder. Can we really trust him? Vote Sideshow Bob.
Results: Second Round
(3) Ralph Wiggum 3749, 
(6) Martin Prince 771
Children, hide your eyes. This carnage is too gruesome to view. Ralph, for once the children are not right to laugh at you -- they should be laughing at Martin. That 'Summer Wind' that used to be filled with the melodious notes of Martin's lovely singing voice now only carries the stench of his rotting corpse. Ralph, you may now go back to eating paste, or purple berries, or knobs, or moon rocks you find in your nose, or your worm, or whatever else is stuck to your popstickle-coated fingers.
Erick T. Bieger: Underneath Ralph's angelic, simpleton facade lies a cold, cane-beating, pyromaniac leprechaun-seeing interior that will destroy Martin like the pansy Latin conjugator that he is. What kind of boy has a tea set? The kind who's gonna get pimp-slapped by Ralph. When this battle is over, it won't just be Ralph's knob that tastes funny.
Nick Wollen: I choo-choo-choose Ralph because of his excellent portrayal of my home state of Idaho...and because his hair unfortunately looks much like mine. Martin is a pompous little Nancy Boy who's already obtained glory through beating Bart in the class election. Take that Wang shirt and shove it.
Brian Trainor: It's easy. The Viking Ralph shall reign might blows 'pon The Wizard Martin by calling upon the power of Thor. Taste that Martin? That's what burning tastes like.
Alan Levy: What a matchup...Springfield's resident philosophical and intellectual genius going head to head against...Martin. Ralph is an unstoppable force as was evidenced by his ability to sweep the Springfield Science Fair with his Star Wars Action Figures, IN THEIR ORIGINAL PACKAGING!!! Martin's pathetic entry of a Milk Carton Ukulele had no chance. Watch as Ralph marches on towards the Final Four!
Daniel Sullivan: Look in the tunk and you will find the rotting remains of the Honor Roller after Ralphie takes care of him.
Dan Gilman: What can I say? Martin probably will challenge Ralph to a music contest in the middle of the game, and who's gonna' win? The triangle (Martin) or a flute up your nose (Ralph)? It's just that simple.
(1) Abe Simpson 2392, 
(8) Cletus 1082
Few envy the life of a hillbilly (or 'son of the soil'). But do you think Cletus and his 26 children have it tough? Grampa lived through Great Depression, grifting his way from town to town. In fact, they called him Grifty McGrift! Back before that, he helped chase the Irish out of Springfield back in aught four. And then in 19-dickety-two, he chased the Kaiser to get back our word "twenty" but he gave up after dickety-six miles. So maybe he deserves this victory just a little more than Cletus, along with the other senior perks like social security, bus discounts, Medic-Alert jewelry, Gold Bond powder and pants all the way up to your armpits.
M. Cochran: Call this an unfair generalization if you must, but old people are no good at anything. However you've gotta give Grandpa credit...he reminds me of a poem I can't remember, and a song that may never have existed, and a place I'm not sure I've ever been to. Grandpa gets my vote...even if he did once take a shot at Teddy Roosevelt.
Henry Koltz: When Abe Simpson doesn't wash his hands before returning to work (that's YOUR rule, not mine) it's because he's a cantankerous former member of the fightingest squad in the fightingest company in the third-fightingest battalion in the army. When Cletus doesn't wash his hands, it's normal... that's disgusting, and I vote for Abe. Cletus, you are DISMISSED!
Trent Trail: Grampa is a communist, a member of the gay and lesbian alliance for some reason, and a Stonecutter. These three conflictions could hurt the man down the line, but Cletus is Cletus. "Hey Ma! That thar old man done kick my ass!"
Russell Peddle: I'll bet 5 bees (which was a lot back in Grampa's days) that Grampa will kick Cletus' inbred, red-neck ass back crying to his wife (or is it sister?) Brandine. Sure, Cletus is one of the better matchups Grampa could have, but no one can be better in a battle than a man who can take off his underwear without even removing his pants!
Sean McGuire: Grampa's imminent victory is a study in voter tendencies. AARP and the elderly vote in huge numbers, whereas the uneducated and poor fail to vote. Despite his winning personality, Cletus, therefore, was crippled from the beginning.
(2) Sideshow Bob 2810, 
(7) Captain McAllister 1729
It really comes down to an examination of the robust catalog of nautical music. Are ye a fan of sea chantees or the HMS Pinafore? Ye scurvy dogs decided Bob's stirring rendition of Gilbert and Sullivan far outclassed the Captain's collection of 90 chantees, even if they are all available on three CDs. On singing prowess alone, Sideshow Bob advances. If we also considered physical appearance, this could have been a rout of mythic proportions. Yarr, I'm not attractive.
David Andriesen: I feel much the way Homer felt when Sideshow Bob was running for mayor: I don't agree with his Bart-killing policy, but I do agree with his Selma-killing policy.
David Vacca: In my all-time favorite Simpsons episode, as his yarrest river-going vessel sinks like a stone, Captain McAllister delivers the immortal line "Arrr... I don't know what I'm doing." I find this bit of wisdom is applicable to my life on a daily basis. Accordingly, I must spit into the winds of destiny and vote against the juggernaut that is Sideshow Bob and his army of dead Republican housepets.
Scott Fendley: The wily captain is a Renaissance man, he is. He's been in several different businesses and plotlines, while Sideshow Bob seems to be able to do one thing only -- attempted murder of Bart Simpson. This is one vote for the Captain, and I'm feeling mighty sick. Arr, I'm getting closer to my home I am. (Note clever Grand Funk reference. Homer would have been proud!)
Thomas Klein: I vote for Sideshow Bob. Sure he framed Krusty, tried to kill Aunt Selma, rigged an election, tried to murder Bart, tried to get rid of television, and was implicated in the dam explosion, but what I'll mainly remember is the laughter. Also, you've got to feel sorry for a guy who keeps getting arrested for crimes he didn't commit. Attempted murder? Do they give Nobel Prizes for attempted chemistry?
Matt Van Becelaere: Again I feel pity for society. Who in their right mind could vote against a man with two glass eyes and a brilliant catch phrase? I am both angry and saddened yaarrrrh (with forcefulness)........yaarrrrh (with understanding decrescendo and drooping head).
(4) Lionel Hutz 619, 
(5) Mayor Quimby 602
It's only fitting that our first evidence of voter fraud would rear its ugly head in a matchup between Lionel Hutz and Mayor Quimby. One can only imagine the kickbacks that were being handed out under the table, or in the form of free pizzas/shoe repair. But after the fraud had been detected (with Quimby holding a very narrow lead), the new votes propelled Lionel Hutz to victory.
Patrick Kane: Next time, Mayor Quimby should bribe the voters with a "plain unmarked briefcase as opposed to a canvas sack with dollar sign on it." The sole partner at "I Can't Believe It's a Law Firm" gets my vote.
Andrew Zinner: I may have been dead since 1972, but I will cast my vote, again and again for Quimby. All of my deceased pets feel the same way. It wasn't the Mayor's fault that the stadium collapsed.
Steven Paul: I voted for Lionel Hutz because he promised me the rest of his Orange Julius in exchange for a vote.
Brian H. (from a NY law firm that shall remain anonymous): Can you let us back on your website, please? We promise not to stuff the ballot box anymore. But c'mon, if there's one thing Hutz and Quimby stand for, it's voter fraud.
Results: First Round
(7) Captain McAllister 3758, 
(10) Sideshow Mel 1770
Putting his crippling depression aside, the Captain keel-hauls Sideshow Mel with remarkable ease. If the Captain can tame the high seas, run a successful restaurant and operate a lobster academy, how can a man with a bone in his hair scare him? He sees freaks every day of his life -- whether it be that remorseless eatin' machine Bottomless Pete, or the Krusty-the-Klown midget lookalike Handsome Pete, who dances for nickels. Arrr....six bells, time for closin' for ye Mel, says I.
Simon Huebner: This one has to go to Mel, if for no other reason so the two Sideshows (Bob and Mel) can lock hair in the second round.
Scott Cooke: Although he is not really a captain, Captain McAllister gets my vote because he knows how to feed bottomless freaks and he understands the importance of hot pants. Once this votes over Sideshow Mel can see is Mr. Johanson can give him his job back. Besides he can't hold a slidewhistle to Sideshow Bob.
Kevin Mclaughlin: A vote for the Captain will keep his men from resorting to homosexuality ... for about ten minutes. Don't take the loss personally, Mel, the Captain heard there was gold in your belly. Aaargh.
Rick Pelletier: Dargh, 'tis clear sailing for Captain McAllister in the second round with his precious cargo.....argh, the hot pants. Give him fifty stout men and he'll reach the finals with spices the likes ye have never seen before!
Brian Cruickshank: Arrr..ye call THAT an anchor? There have been far too many "Sideshows" for my taste: Sideshow Mel, Sideshow Luke Perry, Sideshow Bob. Sideshow Raheem. But there's only one Captain. All hands for the Captain!
Timothy Deckert: Arr, he may not be attractive, but the Captain will have no problem sending Sideshow Mel off the plank. How can you respect somebody who got the job due to a predecessor's indiscretions? Sideshow Mel is to Springfield what Gerald Ford was to Washington. Ford didn't get enough votes, and neither will Mel.
(1) Abraham "Grampa" Simpson 4785, 
(16) Bleeding Gums Murphy 620
Abe Simpson was killing Nazis and seducing Hitler when Bleeding Gums was barely learning the saxophone. How can it even be a contest? A jazz man can't come close to beating a man who is filled with piss and vinegar...even though at first he was just filled with vinegar. In Grampa's own words, "I've coughed up scarier stuff than that!"
Steve Calderon: Anyone who can remove his underwear without taking off his pants gets my vote. Sure, BGM's got soul, but he's also dead. And, he was never a member of the Flying Hellfish.
Jeff Olson: I'd wear a 15-pound beard of bees for Grampa Simpson.
Bob Lawson: Come on, we need some brothas in this race! First, you go and place the only two other black dudes against each other (Carl and Lou)! We can't let another one of the few minorities on the show slip out of our reach! I demand affirmative action! Anyway, just vote for Bleeding Gums. He plays the sax.
Charles Wise: Bleeding Gums (may he rest in peace) is one soulful cat. Abe, on the other hand, is an undeniable classic. From serving fantasy stints as a war-time dance girl to writing award winning material for Itchy and Scratchy, this guy has done it all. Two bees on Abe for the win.
John Kitch: The genius behind 'Sax On The Beach' doesn't stand a chance against the Queen of the Old West, especially since he hasn't brushed in dickety-six years.
(4) Lionel Hutz 2282, 
(13) Snake 1698
Despite Mr. Hutz's attempts to stuff the ballot box (he sent his vote on a cocktail napkin, and he voted for Snake, and Snake was spelled wrong), this was hardly a contest. Snake tried to tempt Lionel with some delicious bourbon (brownest of the brown liquors...what's that? you want me to drink you?), but Hutz discovered useful legal tidbits in all those books in his office and dumped Snake's ass back in prison on a parole violation.
Robert N. Rieben: Snake beats competition, no win for Lionel Hutz. Wait a minute, those printers got it all wrong, it should read: Snake Beats competition? No! Win for Lionel Hutz.
Chris Newman: How can you not vote for the law-talkin' guy, Lionel Hutz? If the jury returns a verdict of Snake, I'll move for a bad court thing!
Erick T. Bieger: It would have been close between Hutz and Snake, but at the last minute Lionel brought forth lots of heresy and conjecture to seal the deal...those are "kinds of evidence", you know.
Chris Berg: I don't use the term "hero" loosely, but Lionel Hutz, sir, is the greatest hero in American history. Go Hutz!
Trent Trail: Mr Hutz will win this one by committing voter fraud... and is it really that bad? Webster's Dictionary defines "fraud" as: "the crime of obtaining money or some other benefit by deliberate deception..." the CRIME of obtaining money or some other benefit by DELIBERATE... DECEPTION. Excuse me...
Michael Vicki: I have to vote for Snake. First of all Lionel Hutz treated Marge poorly at Red Blazer Realty, I mean the guys slogan on his business card was "You'll go nuts for Lionel's Hutz." The vote has to go to man who once posed as the wallet inspector and cares about the "Little Bandit" oh so much. "Hey, that smells like regular...she needs premium, dude! PREMIUM! DUUUUUDE!!"
(6) Martin Prince 1775, 
(11) Kirk Van Houten 760
Behold, the wondrous geode...that Martin used to crush Kirk's skull. I mean, one is a championship soapbox derby racer, the other sleeps in a race-car bed. Martin sucks the marrow out of Van Houten's bones like sweet, nourishing gruel. Stand tall, Martin! You're not daddy's chubby little secret anymore. At least Kirk can be with Luanne again -- in the land of first-round losers.
Bryan McKinnon: Anyone who can't tap the volcano of a woman's urges that Luanne possesses surely is no match for the superior intellect of the brainiac you love to hate. Weekend dad gets the boot, go Martin!
C. Trent Rosencrans: Not only can Kirk "borrow a feeling" but he should smack Martin around with his "glove of love."
Angus MacLean: Kirk Van Houten crushes Martin and his little dog Flipsy. The man sleeps in a race car, for god's sake!
David Grenier: Martin is the wondrous wizard of Latin! A dervish of declension and a conjurer of conjugation, with a million hit points and maximum charisma. That and he can build a model nuclear plant that actually works. It's powering my computer right now. What chance does Kirk have against that? He's too busy worrying about whether or not Milhouse is eating two spaghetti meals in one day, or being all torn up inside that Luanne was born in Shelbyville. Yeah Kirk, you can borrow a feeling, buddy -- pity for having your ass kicked by the kid from Team Discovery Channel.
David Prager: I love Arby's. I would eat there every day if I could. So when Kirk told the fellas who found the dead cat in the pool to throw it over the fence and let Arby's deal with it, that was the last straw. He's going down.
(5) Diamond Joe Quimby 52, 
(12) Luanne Van Houten 5
No voting chicanery needed here, even though Quimby could probably pave the Road to Springfield with bribes. Say chow-dah, woman! The six-term mayor added another successful election victory to his impressive resume. Not even Luanne's post-divorce wardrobe improvements could help her catch the eye of the Mayor long enough to distract him from sealing the win.
Rodney Mallet: How can anyone who is the leader of "fickle mushheads" and who uses Gabbo's line of "I'm a bad little boy" to defend killing a rival lose to someone as plain as Milhouse's mom? He can't. Diamond Joe moves closer to winning another election.
Rob Wuthrich: As much as I'd like vote for the hot momma Luanne, Diamond Joe promised that there would be porn on ever corner and free beer on Wednesdays. So while I sip on my nice ice-cold Duff, I cast my vote for Mr. Quimby.
Michael Visaya: I swore I'd never vote for him again after he blew the ending to "The Crying Game" for me. But Luanne Van Houten? I know Joe Quimby. Joe Quimby is a friend of mine, and Luanne, you are no Joe Quimby.
Mike Siano: This matchup is not even worth Diamond Joe fixing the election.
Jason Winders: Two simple words: Hookers and booze. So I gotta go with Diamond Joe.
Michael Keith: My money is on Luanne Van Houten. This is one case where diamonds are not a girl's best friend! She will roll to victory, in that hamster ball thingy she cruises around in with the Gladiators and all. No contest.
Mike Selinker: Luanne broke the fourth wall by staying divorced even when script convention would have demanded she get back with her husband by 22 minutes into the episode. I'd have to reward that kind of moxie, if it weren't for this bag of money labeled "Definitely Not a Bribe" that showed up on my desk this morning. Mayor Quimby it is.
(2) Sideshow Bob 29, (15) Duffman 12
It took some time for all Sideshow Bob constituencies to report, but Bob ended up slapping a muzzle on everyone's favorite marketing tool (Duffman....can't breathe!!!). All votes were verified to come from entities both alive and of the homo sapiens species.
Kate McEntee: Sideshow Bob, with all his venom and anger, gets my vote. There is many a day at work when I, like Sideshow Bob, become filled with a silent rage because I am sick of my work going unrecognized. I can relate to Bob, and hence, I must vote for him.
Bill Collins: A combination of evil and Gilbert and Sullivan. Can't vote against ... SIDESHOW BOB!
Gwendolyn F.M. Kestrel: Duffman. What a pelvis!
Beth Dupke: As much as I admire Duffman's Gyrating Danger Barometer, my hat goes off to Sideshow Bob. He knows how to treat a woman -- poetry, sensitivity, intelligence, and really big... shoes. Not to mention a vindictive streak that rivals Captain Ahab. Duffman is merely a beer-swilling, bimbo-squeezing, ex-small-town-high-school-athlete-lovin', overrated frat boy. I dated enough of that in college.
Jeff Bruce: I vote for Duffman, because I like beer, tights and upsets.
Andy Collins: Several years ago, this would have been easy.
Bob was in his heyday, coming off strong performances as "Robert DeNiro in Cape Fear" and "Everybody in HMS Pinafore." Clearly, Bob Terwilliger's Springfield "Q-Rating" was at an all-time high (as demonstrated by his nearly successful run for mayor).
Of course, back then nobody had even heard of Duffman. The Seven Duffs, sure. Everybody knew that Surly Duff just looked after one guy, and that was Surly. But the Man who would be Duff, the hero to frat boy and fat slob alike, was still years away.
But then Bob lost his visibility. (Prison time could be to blame.) First he needed help from his brother Cecil, who had wasted four whole years of his life at that clown college, Princeton, just to blow up a measly dam. Next thing we know, Krusty erased all the tapes from the Sideshow Bob era. We are indeed left to ask, "What About Bob?"
Can we, in good conscience, vote for a sagging character of yesterday over a new and vibrant icon of today, thrusting in the direction of a new and vibrant future?
Uh, yeah. Sideshow Bob rocks, and Duffman is a tool of the most evil of tools, marketing.
(3) Ralph 31, 
(14) Rod Flanders 1
Daddy, what's that red stuff coming out of Rod's ears? Why, it's where Ralph put a boot to the youngest Flanders' skull. Today may very well be the happiest day of Ralph's life since he found out he didn't have worms anymore.
For the purpose of public embarrassment, here's some important information about the hump who did not choo-choo-choose Ralph:
Please clearly address any packages of explosives or excrement to him. But please, no packages of explosive excrement, as we'd like to get our damage deposit back.
Viet Nguyen: Vote for Rod Flanders or you will go to hell! Onward Christian soldiers, we will march to victory over the moronic, booger-eating, numbskulls like Ralph Wiggum. And remember, "Lies make baby Jesus cry."
David Lipman: Look Big Daddy! It's regular Daddy! Obviously, Ralph wins in a blowout. I guess Rod will have to console himself with an imaginary Christmas again this year...
Jeff Grubb: Ralph Wiggum is the master of free verse, the beat poet of his generation, the future Yahoo Serious of the millenium. Unimpeded by the shackles of propriety, social responsibility, and sentient thought, he lofts freely through a universe of his own making, guilded only by his arsonistic leprechaun companion.
Rod Flanders, is, well, Rod Flanders. The T-shirt gun took out the wrong target.
Eric Bauer: "My cat's breath smells like ROD FLANDERS' BALLS."
Jeanne Gilbert: Ah, there's a little Ralph Wiggum in all of us, so a vote for him is a vote for humanity.
(8) Cletus 27, 
(9) Patty 10
What a miserable showing by Patty Bouvier. Coming in as a No. 9 seed, she barely had time to light a cigarette before Cletus laid a serious down-home, in-bred smackdown on her before his 26 children descended to feast on the carcass.
What you said:
Craig D. Barker: Cletus has it all over Patty -- more memorable lines, his own theme song, and the reminder that Appalachia can be funny while serving as a valuable warning against a family tree sans forks.
Viet Nguyen: Although chain-smoking is indeed hilarious, hillbilliness is even more frighteningly amusing. This blend of Cajun, Zydeco, and down-home mouth-guitar jangling muzak will prove to be Patty's undoing. I'll see your pack of Lucky Strikes and raise you a coonhound.
Andy Collins: No way in hell Patty is clever enough to feed an entire family with free pretzel coupons. My vote goes to Cletus.
After all, he has to take care of Tiffany, Heather, Cody, Dylan, Dermott, Jordan, Taylor, Brittany, Wesley, Rumor, Scout, Cassidy, Zoe, Chloe, Max, Hunter, Kendall, Caitlin, Noah, Sasha, Morgan, Kira, Ian, Lauren, Q-bert, and Phil. Not to mention his lovely wife Brandeen.
David Schoenfield: I vote for Cletus. Reminds me of some of the guys who lived in my dorm in college in Montana.
Jake Page: Cletus. We still have Selma, so no one will notice when Patty is gone anyway (except her). Plus, Cletus must have something going for him in the evolutionary scheme of things if he is able to have 20+ kids, and Patty nary a one. (yeah, I don't think "nary" is a redneck term, but I think it is underused these days and is ripe for a comeback...)