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AH WAS A-SNORIN WHEN THEY HUNG'D ME (standard:humor, 944 words)
Author: Danny ZilAdded: Jan 19 2013Views/Reads: 1009/677Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
Corrected version.


He he he! Sure put one over on them dumb ass city boys like! How comes?
Cos Ah was a-snorin when they hung'd me! Didn't fuss me none gettin 
hung'd. Didn't hurt me none neithers. Tells you how later. 

Don't know why they made such a botherin anyways. Hell, it was just a
few bodies here an there. All right, maybe ten or twenty. A year. Over 
maybe ten years. Hmm, Ah suppose it mounts up now Ah reckons on it. 
Never done that afores. Yep, coulda been a coupla hunnerd now Ah counts 
them up. Tell ye the truth, Ah couldn't give a pig's nipple. 

That damn wife was the first t' go. All that bitchin an hollerin. Way
too much fer a backwoods boy like me t' be a-suff'rin. Chopped her up 
in the kitchen like kindlin. Place looked like one of ole Crazy Bob's 
paintins afores Ah cleaned up. 

That's when Ah got the taste. 

Had them meaty thighs o' hers with me down at ma still. Supposed t' be
goin in the river. Then Ah thought Ah might burn one on the still fire, 
likes. Just t' see what happened. 

Looked kinda good a-spittin an a-bubblin in there. Roasted up a treat.
Smelled dee-licious! Damn if it didn't burn ma tongue! Tasted fine tho. 
Had the rest o' her with that real nice mustard sauce she made. Got me 
a whole shelf o' the stuff. 

Folks at the shacks knew Ah had off'd her, likes. But nobody talks round
here. No cops ever come t' these backwoods. Not if they ever wants t' 
leave again that is. 

Took me out a-roamin after that. Stayin away from the shack fer weeks.
Just a-lookin. A-lookin fer city types. Found lots. Type that wants a 
taste o' the woods. Well Ah sure got a taste o' them! 

Like them two plump campin gals. Hell you'd need a mule train t' haul
all that fancy shit they had. They don't need it no mores. Drew the 
veil back on their worst nitemares afores they roasted. Tasted damn 
fine with that mustard sauce. Specially after Ah added ma own stuffin! 

Found me lotsa hobos on ma travels. Dirty sons a bitches. Sprayed 'em
clean with ma twelve gauge. Never ate 'em tho. No tellin what shit them 
useless bastards was carryin. 

The years drifted by an so did I. From ma shack into the woods. Lived
off the fat o' the the fat fuckers that wandered in. Suppose 
that's when the numbers started mountin. Wasn't keepin no tally nor 
nothin. Killin an eatin 'em, well Ah suppose it could've gone on fer 
ever. Till the bastards caught me. 

How in the fuck did Ah know she was a Senator's daughter? Bitch kept
screamin she was. Still, Ah reckon folks'll say just about anythin when 
they're starin up them nigger nose holes on a twelve gauge. 

They was just another two city types havin a weekend in the woods. Their
last weekend. Real purty gal an her purty boyfriend. Made her watch 
when Ah reamed him. “Squeal like a pig, boy!” Man, he surely did. 

Took awhiles with her. Like Ah said, real purty she was. Tasted purty as
well. Even without no mustard sauce on accounts it was all long gone by 

Turns out she was tellin the truth. Wasn't just any ole Senator
neithers. Seems him an the Pres'dent was jug-drinkin buddies. Sheet! 

Them fuckin backwoods was soon crawlin with Mr Nash'nal Guard. All over
the place they was like fire ants on a bear hide. 

Snucked up on me when Ah was a-crappin. Ma pants an ma guard was down.
Fella said he'd blow ma balls off if Ah so much as farted. Good job Ah 
hadn't eaten no beans. 

They sentenced me t' be hung. Hung'd by the neck. Had me a good run so
who gives a fuck? Man's gotta go sometimes. Ah spit up their ass! 

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