Hanging with the Goon

I typed my name in da Google an dis is waht came up. Funny, huh?

Greetin's and salumations, brothers in Christ. Har, dats waht the Jahova's Witnesses always say beofer Slack runs in da trailer and gets da shotgun and shoots at 'em, which is funny as hell. I always thought da powder of God would protect 'em from da buckshot, but they bleed just like any other. We don't take kindly to visitors in our parts, since dere's always a lot of special buisness going on an we don't need no government spies hanging out an trying to figure out how much money we ain't making or reportin' on our taxes. Uncle Thom is always going on 'bout how da government is tryin' to ruin life for decent folks, since all dem liberals are running da government an fundin' studies to determine how much fart juice cows is putting into da atmosphere. Uncle Thom thinks dats bullshit, but you know, I'd like to know how much farts is comin' outta a cow's ass daily, since dats a question I've been asking myself fors a very long times.

Well, let's get down to da topic at hand. I sawer da Hillsdale Monster da oder day, it who is called "Da Ol' Man." He looks just like da beef jerky sasquatch, an he's just as ornery. Me an Slack was hiking through the woods, trying to get to da school cuz it was soccer practice day for da high school girls, an sometimes da girls play in dere sports bras, when Slack tripped over a log an fell on his ass. Da log he tripped over was filled wit a bunch of pornos! Dey were vintage pornos, from like da sixties or somethin, cuz they had weird haircuts an dey only showed dere boobies an didnt do no close ups of dere beavers. We started pawing through dem an wonderin' how such a thing could've occoured, when we heres dis terrible commotion comin' from a little cave over yonder. It sounded like da noise a beer would make if he sat his asshole on a fireant mound. Slack, being somethin' of a coward, wanted to run, but I grabbed 'em an made 'em hide behind a big tree so we could see what came outta da cave. Sure nough, it came out an it was a Bigfoot! It was 'bout eight feet tall an all covered in pubic hair, an it had a big ol' dome like head wit red eyes an a snarl on its face. Worst of all, it smelled like Uncle Thom after he's had an all night whiskey binge an done shat his pants.

Dat sasquatch started hollerin' an throwin' around logs cuz I guess he forgot where he put his pornos. Now da question on my tongue is "How does a sasquatch get pornos, specially ones from da sixties?" I don't have no good answer for dat, but Slack says he probably got turned inta a bigfoot by a witch or somethin like dat. Anyways, we was startin' to fear fere our lives, cuz da Bigfoot was real pissed, so I whispered to Slack "What're we gonna do?" an he says "Fuck, I dunno." Suddenly an idere struck me an I says "Let's take 'em up Uncle Thom's way," an Slack gives me a look like "why da hell would we do dat?" but den I step out from behind da tree an start yellin "Hey stinky! We got yur dirty magazines!" an as you can imagine, dat got his attention. So we're runnin' through da woods, an I tell ya, dat Bigfoot can run, cuz he's knockin' down trees behind us an makin' a terrible fuss, an thankfully we reached Thom place real quick. I try wavin' my arms to get 'em to follow me an' not Slack, an I takes him right over da covered pit where Thom keeps all his women, an sure enough da Bigfoot falls right in wit a terrible ruckous. Dat pits 'bout fifteen feet deep or so, an dere's no climbin' out. So da Bigfoot's down dere, screamin' his head off, an I turns to Slack an says "We got 'em." "We gonna be famous," says Slack. "Jesus," I says.

I'll let ya'll know what happens in a bit, since my alarms done turned on an dat means it's time to go to da orchard. Stay tuned for da riviting saga of da Goon an da Hillsdale Monster!