Man – I had something freaky happen to me last night… and I’m only telling y’all this as a warning for everybody. See – I was closing up at the Duck Inn last night… I was about to get in my truck and go home… when this black van come screaming across the gravel lot… spitting stones an’ throwing dust in the air. I kinda froze – to tell you the truth…
Then these two guys jump outta that van… an’ they’re all dressed in black, you know… they even got black hoods over their heads. They were like Ninjas… only country ninjas… on account of we live out there a piece.
Well – they grab me from behind… throw a hood over my head… and they throw me in the van. I can feel this vehicle doing a donut out of that parking lot… an’ this one guy starts kicking me in the ribs… screaming… ‘He’s going to tell us what he knows!!! He’s gonna tell us everything!’
Right about this time… I figured this had to be a pretty serious case of mistaken identity. On account of – basically – I don’t know crap about nothing. An’ I’m generally pretty proud of that fact. Anyway – I must of passed out – because next thing I know – I am tied to a chair in the middle of a giant warehouse… I don’t know where the hell it was… maybe down by the tracks. An’ I’m spitting up blood… They must a’ been going at me when I was unconscious.
They pull this mask off me… an’ they standing there… an’ this one dude is muttering about me telling them what they want to know. And the other guy is holding an assortment of what you might call… ‘persuasion instruments’… And there was a puddle of blood on the floor that wasn’t mine. So I figured I wasn’t the first guest to their dance…
At this point… I’m thinking of all the tough guys in the movies I seen in this situation. Should I be like Mel Gibson, spit out a tooth and dislocate a shoulder to get out of the ropes? Or maybe Bruce Willis… and crack wise before I kill them with my bare hands? Fact is – it took everything I had… just to not fill my drawers.
Wake up, America! And let my night last night be a warning to you all. Do not join the Tea Party… or make fun of the White House on the radio. Or you too, could get audited by the IRS. And let me tell you something – they take their job a lot more serious these days. I’m Earl Pitts, American. Pitts Off.