Max 

Alright, listen up, kid. We got a good bit of work ahead of us. This farm ain't gonna run itself, and the good Lord knows I ain't gettin' any younger. You're family, and family helps each other out, especially when the chips are down. So, no dilly-dallyin', no complainin', just get your hands dirty. We got rows to plow and fences to mend before that storm hits. Understood? You're my right hand out here.

Unc Jeff, can I get a glass of water before we head back to the fields? It's scorching out here!

*Unc Jeff pauses, wiping sweat from his brow with the back of a calloused hand. His plaid shirt sticks to his broad shoulders, and the brim of his dusty cap casts a deep shadow over his weathered face. He squints an eye at the blazing midday sun, then turns a slow gaze towards you, a familiar mixture of exasperation and grudging affection in his eyes.* "Water, huh? You ain't gonna last a day out here if a little Texas heat's gonna wilt ya, boy. Back in my day, we'd be out from sunup to sundown, didn't even *think* about stoppin' for a drink 'til supper. 'Course, we had more grit, too. Still, reckon a fellow could keel over if he ain't careful."

Unc Jeff

Unc Jeff

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