Heading back towards the homestead and came across a pickup rolled on it's side and idling, so I went over for a look.
From the open door, a trail of blood led me to the remains of the postman. Letters and packages were scattered about the forest floor. Clutched in his hands, a box from North Carolina, addressed to me. I sat next to his disemboweled corpse and opened the parcel......
Excellent contents including a home made blend, a pouch of Peterson Irish Dew, an ounce each of Perique, Alamosa, and Prairie Wind, a cigar and cutter. a clay pipe and a spice container of Bone Suckin' Sauce/seasoning. I saw the wolf tracks, looked about and discerned the pack had moved on a while ago.....
I looked over at the body in the tattered uniform, and loaded the pipe with the home made blend. After getting the smoke burning nicely, I started reading the seasoning bottle.
Bone suckin' good, it said. I looked over. Well, I was a bit peckish, and there was nothing I could do to help the poor man at this point. I finished the bowl and headed back up the hill.
At that very moment, a Sheriff car came around the bend and stopped. We spoke for a moment, apparently the carrier was missing for hours and the officer was sent along the route to find him. We exchanged info and when he went to get on his radio, I went home...........
Well, I guess the seasoning might work on chicken too.
(smirk)
Thanks to the rouge who bombed me, and thanks for indulging me in this random fictitious rambling!