We howdy ya'll. Billy J. here gain with my update as I cross this here mighty fine country of ours on my way to that captol of our Washyton DC. Figured if Ima gonna go to DC, I may as well take this here scenic route and see the sights, an maybe I'll kill me a few undead varmints along the way.

So I stop off in Alberqurky and pick up my huntin' buddies Enrique, Dale, Zeek, Jo-Jack, and R-Dog. They may be may second choice for huntin' buddies, but a one gun totin' trailer park redneck is as good as another right. Its how I got my current position as an undead eviserator.

So I pick up my posse and head down the hiway headin east which is where I happen to know our nation's fine captiol is, east of Texas somewheres. Anyhows we stop off at the Gulp & Blow and fill up ol' Gertie and our own mighty fine bellies and I tell you what, that was some mighty fine BBQ. We all downed a round or two Jack , cept for R-Dog who insisted on a bottle of Krystal. Go figure a fella from LA would want a drink that is spelled wrong.

Anyhows, we load back into my truck and head on down the hiway, three sheets deep and chock full of gas. Gertie, Im talkin bout, well, Jo-Jack too. Thank the Lord almighty I was in control of the window locks.

Well shortly passin the state line that night we all were feelin a bit stir crazy and restless. Thats when we saw one of them carnyvals up ahead. So after around of "well, what do ya figure we do", we turn ol Gertie around and drive the five mile back. Dam it, Dale can't make up his mind for a hill of beans.

So we's go and pull into this here parkin' lot, least it looked like a parkin lot to us, there were things parked there, how was I supposed to know that they were carny wagons. Who'ld put carny wagons in a parkin' lot.

Well, we jump on out of the truck like a scene from some Quenetn Tarrytino movie, me and my posse rollin up out of my truck, guns in hand, when we hear "BANG". Well we dam near jump of out of skin and turn toward Dale. Parently Dale fergot to turn off his safty before gettin' out and it went off and he shot himself and well, we'll miss Dale. Now everytime a see his half a head splattered over the side of Gertie, I will remember Dale, and the fact I won't get the $20 to get it washed off.

Anyhows nuthin rest of us could do, so we roll Dale under the truck and head off into this here circus.

We get in after sneakin past the midget at the gate and all spread out lookin for stuff to do. I head off to the shootin gallery, Jo-Jack headed off to the snack bar, R-Dog went to the belly dancers, and Zeek and Enrique headed off toward the freak show. Well we have ourselves a good ol' time for about an hour when I realized, we were the only friggin customers. After ponderin this sichyation I realized, "Dam, we got the whole place to ourselves now thats service."

Thats when the lights an' power all go out, the rides all stop, the music gets all creepy, and suddenly I dropped my cotton candy. Doesn't that beat all, I spent $1 on that thing and only took three bites. Dam it to hell.

So I figure the place up and closed and went lookin' for my posse.
I found Jo-Jack, Enrique, and Zeek. Of course R-Dog is nowhere to be found. We all headed off to the dancer's tent figurin that horny bastard would be there. Well we found R-Dog, well most of him, and well, we'll miss R-Dog.

Ya' see them there dancers all became some sort of demon possessed things with fangs and claws and wierd lookin eyes. As my daddy used to say; "Son three things you need to know bout bein a man; One don't cept no wooden nickles, two always keep your gun loaded and ready, and three never ever get involved with any broad that lives in a circus. " Of course the warden flipped the switch after that, but I still remember those golden words.

Well once again my fine heroics were called upon and me and my posse opened fire. All I remember of that there fight was a combination of gunfire and hand to hand techneeks. A machete chop here and a roundhouse punch there. Before I know it all three of those demon tempresses were dead at our feet.

Of course I knew this whole place was gonna be a throwdown after that, and it was. We leave the tent and from everywhere ghouls, bloodsuckers, freaks, and demons came crawlin'. So I gave out the battle cry, " Zeek Get The Diesel Fuel!" and Zeek went and disappeared.

Meanwhile those bastards were all around us and were atatckin' from every darn direction. I held my own, Jo-Jack was carvin up some fat lady with a mouth for a gut when some blood suckin midget lunged on him and, well, we'll miss Jo-Jack.

I turn to see Jo-Jack go down and realize, "Dam it to Hell, he still owes me $50. " I turn toward Erinque who has both his MP5s going full burst and blew them midgets away, along with a snake boy, some undead he/she lookin' thing and finally shoved a grenade into the chest of a four armed strongman. I was dam impress to see Mexican fightin' alongside a Texan. Santa Anna must be rollin' over in his grave right now.

Well it was a some bloodsucker dressed like a ringmaster that pulled out his whip and snuck up on Enrique before I could warn him. The ringmaster whipped Enrique around his neck and ol' Enrique grabbed the whip and, well, we'll miss Enrique.

Note to self: Do not ever work with Billy J.

Why not? You'll be missed.

I'm told by some, that is important.

Holister wrote:You sound more like a pyromaniac.

Well, don't that just beat all. How'ld ya' know my Uncle Buck? He always taught me "That if its gotta burn, burn it big and bright cause you're a Texan boy." And I still follow his words of wisdom till' this here very day.

Anyhows, I gotta finish tellin' this story of mine. Whear was I. Oh yeah; we just lost Enrique to that ringmaster thing with the whip.
If Enrique wanted to go, havin' his head popped off like a dandylion
I sure as hope heck wasn't on that list.

Well there I was standing' there face to face with this ringmaster and his whip of death. He cracked it once or twice, and I saw his snake eyes burnin' and his fangs curlin. So I shot em' in the face with a Hail Marry of 00 shot. He cursed, dropped his whip, and grabbed what was left of his face. I spat once and emptied the last of my rounds into him, followed by a full body tackle that would do The Cowboys proud, and buried this here machete into his neck.
After two or three wacks, I took that bastard's head for a trophy and was ready for more.

I got myself up and tore ass to the big top to fiinish this lil shindig. But as soon as I enetered, this small ass lil car pulls up and clowns start pilin' out, one right after the other. I tell you what there had to be about a dozen of these here fellas.

Normally I thinks clown are funny, especially when they take it up he kiester by the bull, but thee fellas were just down right mean. They all gang up on me ya' see. I chop at one, than another. I draws my Ruger and shoot one, then another. I chop one and roundhouse another. They just kept comin'.

Thats when the ten got all bright and that familiar sound of Gertie's V-8 Hemi came rorain into that there tent. To my damest suprise there was ol' Zeke behind the wheel and tossin' a Molytov Cocktail out the window. That bottle hit one of those clowns and he went up like the sun on a new day. Then another, this one lands five feet from where I was standing and set another one of those floppy shoed big nosed bastards ablaze. Hot Dam, it was somethin' special.

Thats when Zeek pulls up alongside and I jump in the back. We start doing donuts in this tent and I start hurlin' bottles in every which direction. We've got flamin' Bozos runnin this way and that, and just fer kicks I have Zeek floor the pedal and run a few of those creepy sons of bitches down, and back up, and foward, and back again.

It didn't take too long for that there big top to go up in flames so we tear out of the tent like our asses were on fire and our hair was catchin'. And they dam near was.

I have Zeek pull over so I can get in and drive, my dam truck after all, and had ol' Zeek get in the back. I tells him to make a few more cocktails and hand me off of few of them there grenades. That is when the last of that circus freaks shows up and attack the truck.

We start lightin', throwin' and duckin' while everything starts blowin up and burnin' down. I start ol' Gertie and away we go, drivin' through tents, runnin' down freaks, and blowin' stuff the Holy Hell.

Well I hit another of them there clowns, it bounces off the hood and flips into the bed knockin' Zeek and it out of the truck, along with the diesel tank. Befores I know it, every last one of those unholy bastards lunge on Zeek. I could hear ol' Zeek say, " Remember The Alamo ", well it was more like " Gack..agh....gurlgle", but I know what he meant. Ol' Zeek went out fighting and being torn limb from limb, and well, we'll miss Zeek.

So I get out of my truck, walk over to the diesel spill and drop my lighter on it. That there diesel went up like a snake on fire and that there diesel tank blew sky high, rainin down gunk all over the place.
I get back into my truck and I here this ping off my hood and see
this here gold ring sittin' on my hood.

I reach out and grab it, used to be Zeek's weddin' ring. Well he ain't married no more, so I pocket it and drive on off. Back on the road to DC.

Moral of this here story boys & gals. Don't go to the circus.