The crowd roar that greets Jeff Foxworthy at the start of Games Rednecks Play attests to his rocketing to stardom since his hilarious debut, You Might Be a Redneck If..., went platinum last year. Behind Foxworthy's exasperated, 90-mile-an-hour drawl and sharp-as-fishhooks takes on life way below the Mason-Dixon line lies comedy the old-fashioned way: strings of one-liners on a connected theme. Games Rednecks Play serves up a similar plate of Southern-fried yuppie yuks, down to a new batch of ''You might be a redneck...'' quips. Foxworthy scratches his head over the Victoria's Secret catalog, getting a hysterectomy, and vacationing with his hick relatives (''My uncle Doug kept saying, 'When we gonna convert our money to Hawaiian money?''').
Occasionally, Foxworthy gripes about the media's general depiction of Southerners as trailer-park trash, yet his own ribbings of Georgia suburbia, while affectionate, often lapse into those same cultural clichés. (Regarding the upcoming Olympics in Atlanta, he cracks, ''I guarantee you, when they let those doves go at the opening ceremonies, there are gonna be guys in the parking lot with shotguns!'') Foxworthy wants to have his fried chicken and eat it, too. B+
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