Snake Sunday

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Snake Sunday by Bob Miller

While working in the back alleys and sewers of the US federal government requires one to do a lot of ungodly things, there are times when having a license to kill gives you a feeling of being godlike. Going through some boxes in storage, I found a letter from an associate of mine who shared this interesting story with me about one of his off-duty jobs.

Dear Bob: Since I had nothing in particular to do until my next assignment, I decided to tour the Appalachian Mountains, having heard you talk so much about the beautiful scenery and the people in this area being more comical than a barrel of monkeys.

On the second day of my road trip I ended up in the middle of a fierce summer storm. The two lane road I was on was a sightseer's delight but very dangerous even without the downpour, so the road sign announcing a town two miles ahead was a welcome sight.

My plan was to get a needed haircut, eat some home cooking as advertised on the window of the restaurant across the street from a barbershop, find a room for the night, and leave the first thing the next day. That plan changed suddenly in the barbershop when the only other customer started asking me a lot of questions about things that went beyond shoptalk. Actually it was not the questions that earned this guy my undivided attention. It was his statement about my silk shirt. "If'n I had to guess, I'd guess you'd be the only man in these here parts wearing silk. Men folks in these here mountains leave that material to the womens", the guy said.

I didn't acknowledge the statement, but I did start asking him a lot of questions that were not shoptalk either, because I had decided to stay in this quaint little town long enough to kill this moron. Within minutes I had learned more about him than he could have learned about me in ten years. With a smirk on his face, he told me not only how to kill him, but where to do it. This mental midget was a snake-handling Pentecostal preacher.

As you well know, Bob, my accomplices would be the American taxpayers and Ed in operations. I had to suck up to this guy by attending several of his church services, but that worked out really well. The preacher had a daughter who was extraordinary in four ways--she was beautiful, young, a nymphomaniac, and, like everyone else I had met in this town, incredibly stupid.

It would be on this preacher's birthday that I gave him a gift of a Dendroaspis Polylepis. The snake, according to Ed, cost the taxpayers about $5,000 to buy and ship. But as you well know, American tax payers are super nice people to work for; they seldom complain about how much we spend or what we spend it on.

I was totally up front with my preacher friend. I informed him that many herpetologists consider the Dendroaspis Polylepis to be one of the deadliest snakes in the world. It is extremely aggressive, fast, and seldom delivers a dry bit. As expected, this Christian moron informed me that Jesus was by his side and not to worry. Like the millions and millions who have died counting on this mythology-born savor to protect them, this Holy Roller was bitten several times and died within hours of opening my gift.

Interesting VIDEO but too long in my opinion