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Quick Ma, Grab the Shotgun!


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"Quick Ma, grab the shotgun!"


The buck-tooth, straw-sucking young man in overall sprinted across the front porch and hopped over the railing towards the corn field. He never felt so sacred and exhilarated in all of his uneventful life. Nothing ever happens on his farm in ButtFuck Nowhere, SSK, Canada, but today was a very different kind of day.


A man in a black suit, with 2 burly man at his side, was marching across his driveway towards the house. He was the type of city slicker you see in the movies. The type that come for a purpose, for self-gain, but will try to make you think it is for your benefit. 


The young man hid in the corn field and watched them as the walked up the steps and banged on the door. The mother answered. There was a very long hushed conversation. He tried to slip closer to hear what was being spoken. 


All of a sudden, the mother pointed at his position in the corn field. The three men whipped around. The young man was so shocked that he pissed himself, farted and passed out. 


When he came to, he was lying on his back on the sofa on the front porch. His mother was applying a cool wet cloth to his forehead. 


"Honey," she said in a sugary voice. "I want to you meet Mr. Sterling. He has some business to discuss regarding the VHL.






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