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The True Story of Patience Worth. 1,300 Adult. (standard:Satire, 1197 words) | |||
Author: Oscar A Rat | Added: Jul 09 2020 | Views/Reads: 1473/1042 | Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes) |
The other day I heard a knock on my door. It was a hippie I met a long time ago. Wiping tears from bloodshot eyes, he handed a cassette tape to me ... then abruptly turned and left. Curious, I played it and this is what I heard in a female voice. | |||
Click here to read the first 75 lines of the story Damn, the power of suggestion, as my pally Willy Shakespeare would'a said. Those guys was'a goin' around with smiles on their faces. Nobody had the nerve to admit to the others that the damned things didn't work that way. Anyway, that's the way I met my George. He's the guy selling all those seeds, see? George Two-Feathers, he had a big grin on his face but his was warranted, with all the skins and stuff he done got selling them thingies to the other red-guys. He took himself a shine to me, right away mind you. And I liked the way his loin-cloth stood out from his body. Anyway, Jake got his stuff planted and raised tobaccy for the colony and natives. Me, I preferred my Georgie, an we done took off in'ta the woods. Ain't no native done killed me, it was that John Smith guy done it. The stupid oaf done found me doin' laundry one day, out back of the teepee or whatever the hell they called it. I called it a skin-house cause it reminded me of a stiff pri ... you know? "Hey, you're a white woman," he yelled, drawing his sword. No shit, I thought. "Where's that dastardly redman that done did this to you," he screamed at me. Bout that time, Georgie Two-Feathers, wondering what all the noise is 'bout, he comes runnin' out, and John starts a swinging like -- with that big pig-sticker. Man, but that damn thing could cut. It done cut the trees, it done cut the air, it done cut the cheese, it done cut the bushes, it done cut the damn house down. It done cut everything but George. That nut even cut the shit out'a me. I remember the dizzyin' sight a my pore punkin head bouncing around on the ground. Let me tell you, man. That's one funny feeling, your head done bouncin' around on the ground. So, then it got a little violent, man. Georgie done grabbed John round the neck, twisting him around like. They done fell on the ground, wrestlin' like two pigs in shit, see? Then George runned his own ass right in'ta that damned sword. He ended up on'a ground, staring into my own dimming eyeballs. With his last strength, that Injun' held my loose head tight to his chest. So damn tight nobody could pry me loose, so they done buried us together -- like one'a them totemy poles. Course, S'mitty said my George did it. Kilt me. George being dead and all, that's the way it was said in your history books. I tried to tell that whore, Pearl Curran, what happened, but she didn't like my version. She switched it all around when she wrote the book -- the bitch. "More? Sure, man, this is some prime stuff. But I do have to get back soon. Make sure this tape gets to Oscar Rat, please, honey? ------------------- So that's how I got the real story about the killing of Patience Worth, the first woman to lose her head at the Jamestown Colony. I got the cassette tape to prove it. Tweet
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