I’m seriously thinking of entering the Bulwer-Lytton contest this year. Here’s my latest (purposely) bad prose:
Pa’s moonshinin’ ain’t gonna cost me another beau, thought Elvina, as she hitched up her Daisy Dukes, cinched her bandana top, kicked aside Tater, the Gloops’ near-blind hound, and threw open the torn screen door to meet her paramour, Elwood R. Sanderson, Revenuer.
I like commas.