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(another spoof inspired topic, Farm chores, and the curiosity of mechanically inclined children)

"I need to mow grandma's yard, you two will pick up stick when we get there and then try to stay out of trouble, and stay out of the lofts!" I merely smile; 'Okay dad, can do..." Short 3 mile drive out of town and we are there, and about an hour of picking up sticks and such we finally deposit the last of them on the burn pile. After about 10 minutes of exploring the barn for anything mischief related we discover it, a mssive pile of junk metal, fencing, farm equipment in one high pile behind the barn. Like a mecca we were drawn to it, and so as we sat attop the pile that screamed "IMA GOIN TO CUT YOU BADLY!" we contemplated on what we could do besides sit on it.

The commercials for the winter sking memberships for Mad river mountain had started and well sking had some lure to thrill seeking young boys. the only problem, age, we were to young for my dad to even consider it much less snow on the ground in early october. however, we both had slides at our school, so the metal roofing that was tossed ont he pile was perfect. half an hour spent constructing a clearing a path up the pile was underway.

The construction took two more seperate trips, but at its completion we stood atop our pile with 2x4 skis, and some half assed straigtend rebar for sticks. My younger brother went first. It was soon discovered that the lap of the roofing was all wrong. the front edge of his 2.4's caught the raised edge of the next sheet down and he head planted and rolled down into a mess of barbed wire. 1st spanking and stern warning follows.

4th trip and some minor adjustments, my turn......since my brother was still sporting some band aids from his run down the pile. My run was good excecpt 2x4s on steel do not turn on edge, and my balace sucked so.....Hosptial for a deep cut from a sharp edge. Spanking after the exit from the emergency room

5th trip and under penelty of a severe a** whopping for the both of us we made the final run together. I drew the outside of misfourtune. my brother made it to the bottom where he flipped forward catchign himself, but the broken glass cut his hands up, I wasn't so lucky, my run got past the barbed wire, off the track, and into a new addition of siding complete with nails. My broher was bawling, i was staring at my hand which was impaled on a long nail, and the deep gash that i didn't see leaving a pile run of blood. shock wore off and then I bawled like i was 2.

Hosptial for us both, a** whopping when we got home, junk pile was gone when we returned, so disappointed, but then we started sneaking into the lofts again.

There is an elite squad, one the not just anyone can join, because you half to be skilled in the english language. Their uniforms are unmistakable, gray wool, bright gold name tag, a holster for the latest edition of Websters college dictionary, a magic eraser, and the one item you cannot miss. The questionmark swastika armband, blue material, with black questionmarks.

They patrol the threads and station themselves in active roleplay centers smashing all hopes of slipping a small errors to deflate the intelligence of the whole. They school you in grammar in a relentless pounding of "You fail, Fail, or my personal favorite You fail at life" If you are a victim of grammar nazi's there is no hope for you, they will mercessily leach all the horrid slang out of your infected body and the end result is you give up and get Firefox to please them.

(part 2 of 2)


Sally was sitting in a wheelchair at the graveyard when they finished george's funeral. How she survived no one knows, but she defied all the odds and lived. Although George's killer got away for now Sally did what she could to help in finding him. The forensic evidence they gathered gave them a few more leads then they had before.

However, later that month after Sally was walking and independant once more for the most part she found that any bump or creak in the house made her jump. She found it even harder to sleep when she would reach over and no one was beside her.

She would cry herself to sleep, and her coworkers worried about her all the time. She put up the front of being okay, but on several occasions sheriffs were called out to her home during thunderstorms for wild goose chases. Everyone felt bad for her, some prayed for her, but still she declined into alcoholism.

2 years after her near death experience at 3 in the mroning Sally was woken up by a pounding on the door. Her head hurt from the alcohol, but she was sober enough to be in a cranky mood. She flung the door open; "WHO THe HELL DO YOU THINK YOU ARE POUNDING..." Sally never finished as some fightened woman was shoved into her, she had been crying allot, but who shoved her spoke. "I've come to make you my wife." Sally stood dumbfounded at first as the person who entered looked exactly like George. The woman clining to her wouldn't stop shaking and jumped as a gun was placed against the back of her neck. "I told you to stop whimpering and carryin on, i will kill you, but i rather have someone live to bear witness to my marriage." Now sally was scared, but she reached up and pressed the button of the key chain that set off the silent alarm.

Sally never got her answer, but instead was forced to sit on the couch as the gun wielding man preached and carried on. He was on something, or nuts, because he kept talking to himself as another person. He eventually talked himself out of marrying eiter of them, but clearing up witnesses. However, whatever he took had sped his heart up so fast that it exploded, and he fell to the floor. Sally didn't move thinking it was an act, neither did the woman who apparently was from out of town.

(while they sat)

"Get up you fool, this is no time to be sleeping, get up, or I will kick the hell out of you!" Jason was yelling at his body, as if it was another person, aparently his mental disease transfered with his death for the present. "I have watched you torture many of the victims you murdered, and it makes me seethe in anger that I was bound not to interfere." jason turned looking for the voice but he couln't see where it was coming from. 'Who said that, did you do this, if you did you're dead, i will kill you, and then descrate your body."

"A short laugh ensued followed by more words; "You cannot kill what is already dead, and I own your a** now b***h. You will suffer until i feel you have paid for the crimes against the victims you sent me." Akuma let the sight barrier drop, and before he could take a step, she swung her sycthe with ease and percision.

(back tot he two girls now)

Sally felt a chill from a small draft and she heard a car pull up. She helped the woman up who was crying, and carefully walked outside where deputies were walking up to the door. Upon sight of the crying woman they quickened their pace, and calls were made. Statements were taken, and by 7am Sally finally got to lay down in a hotel room snce her house was now a crime scene once again."

(Sally's deathbed)

Sally had come a long way since that rough spot in her life. She eventually achieved independance from alcohol, and wrote several best selling books. Keeping little for herself she donated the rest of her profits to chaites that dealt with men and women who have gone through what she did.

However, the toll those years did on her body caught up to her, and in her old age she had severe health problems. She smiled at her grandchildren waving a bit from her hosptial bed, and they waived back smiling and giggling a bit. She laid her head back and let out a long sigh. When she woke up she no longer felt the dull pain of her joints or the constant pain of the needles.

She stood up and dusted herself off and took survey of the desolate yet hospitible land. "Hey Sally welcome to the Abyss." Sally was more then tired of people always being behind her, and turning around it was her lover who had died of cancer before she did. The Abyss didn't seem so bad now, it was heaven to Sally, because Sue was there."