Well, he has had a bit of experience!
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Barb Moore, Spy...
- Thread starter thehangingtree
- Start date
Well, he has had a bit of experience!
When you have a good cruxette she makes me look good...Always look for the Union label
I go back to the motel and take a shower. As I watch the dirt swirl down the drain I think that Barb would have enjoyed joining me. Why, besides it beats being crucified, I don’t know. I get dressed and walk to the diner just east of motel on Route 22. I order two eggs sunny-side, sausage, toast, grits, and civet slave bard coffee. I hope no one notices me pouring Seagram’s in the cup. It was a great late supper or very early breakfast. I ask if there is a bar nearby and the waitress takes me through what looked like doors to the kitchen but instead leads to a very nicely furnished bar. I order a Seagram’s (four fingers) and water, toss on my hat on the table, and sit down. I barely started to sip my drink when Bull sits down across from me.
“Tree, what’s going on?”
“I’ve had some food and now I am drinking some dessert” I reply.
“I’ve seen you drink but never like this. You have to let go of Barb. She’s just a job, Tree” he insists.
“No she is not ‘just a job’. Look, I know I fucked up falling for her. I can’t take that back. I did my job but allow me the luxury of not liking it every once in a while, OK? Is Gunner watching Barb?”
“Yeah, he’s up there” Bull says. “I still don’t know why you think that it is important some is on watch all the time.”
“Until you do you won’t get your union card. Now if you don’t mind when I drink alone I prefer to drink by myself.”
Bull leaves…
T
A near-full moon lights the sky. I am tired, hurt, thirsty, and hungry. As darkness creeps in boredom joins pain. I was raised at 1 PM and from this hill I can see Dardanelle below me. It has two traffic signals that instead of cycling red, green, and yellow just flash red one way and yellow the other. The only traffic is feed trucks delivering grain to the Tyson chicken brooding house.
It is so hard to breathe. A single flood light illuminates my body. Gunner sits in Tree’s chair. I have to live to see if his girth can extricate his ass from a chair more suitable to Tree’s boney ass. I wonder if I make it till Tree shows up in the morning.
Istagger walk back to the motel. What is the big deal that an old guy like me could fall for a beautiful young woman like Barb? It has to be jealousy. I take a leak on the gravel parking lot then open the door to my room. I shut the door and hear Judy Tree say “Hi, Tree! Do you want to have some fun?”
I’m 61 and she’s 19 or 20. …and Barb is crucified less than a mile away. She sprawls seductively on the bare Murphy bed. I tell her (paraphrasing Leon Russell) “I could love you in a place where there’s no space in time. But you are in my space and as tempting as you are this is not that time. Thank you for the offer but please go, Judy.”
She shrugs and walks to the door and says “Don’t expect me to offer twice, old man.”
“Go, Judy”
Through the window I watch her sashay naked and barefoot across the gravel parking lot.
Wake, reaching for yesterday
Up, washing the sleep away
My mind, full of the games you play all the time
I, roll up a cigarette
Sit down, trying hard to forget
Your face, when you turned and left me again
It's not a game
Seeing your face on the wall, when it's only in a frame
It's not the same
Sleeping without you at night, not knowing if I will again
Magic mirror shines
Memories of yesterday
You wouldn't go and you couldn't stay
Deceitfully blind
To you wanting your way
Where will you go, where will you stay
Where will you stay
You wouldn't say
You wouldn't say
You've gone away
Can't help feeling sad but then I'm glad
You'll realize your heartaches today
I see your eyes
Yes the eyes that used to shine with secret tears
You know you always used to cry
I'll wait for tomorrow
Yes, I'll wait for tomorrow
Haven't I told you
Just want to hold you
You know that yesterday
You took my smallest part so carelessly away
Have all your memories gone suddenly to sleep
Your golden head
The empty bed
The empty bed and now there is another day
But where are you
What can I do?
You once said
Ours is terrestrial love
Such a feeling left along with your case
It's such a fight
'Cause every window I pass
Keeps reflecting visions of your face
Like a Spider's web
Weaving me round and round again
Will it let go, can I clear my head
There's a thousand things
Not only the empty bed
Why did you go? was it something I said?
Let me clear my head
Was I misled?
I wish I was dead
You've gone away
Can't help feeling sad but then I'm glad
You'll realize your heartaches today
I see your eyes
Yes the eyes that used to shine with secret tears
You know you always used to cry
I'll wait for tomorrow
Yes, I'll wait for tomorrow
Haven't I told you
Just want to hold you
You know that yesterday
You took my smallest part so carelessly away
Have all your memories gone suddenly to sleep
Your golden head
The empty bed
The empty bed and now that you have gone away
Where are you
What can I do?
My cigarette's gone out
It's late, no one's about
Guess I'll try
Put you right out of my mind
-Empty Bed (Io Me Ne Andrei)
Tree
“Tree, what’s going on?”
“I’ve had some food and now I am drinking some dessert” I reply.
“I’ve seen you drink but never like this. You have to let go of Barb. She’s just a job, Tree” he insists.
“No she is not ‘just a job’. Look, I know I fucked up falling for her. I can’t take that back. I did my job but allow me the luxury of not liking it every once in a while, OK? Is Gunner watching Barb?”
“Yeah, he’s up there” Bull says. “I still don’t know why you think that it is important some is on watch all the time.”
“Until you do you won’t get your union card. Now if you don’t mind when I drink alone I prefer to drink by myself.”
Bull leaves…
T
A near-full moon lights the sky. I am tired, hurt, thirsty, and hungry. As darkness creeps in boredom joins pain. I was raised at 1 PM and from this hill I can see Dardanelle below me. It has two traffic signals that instead of cycling red, green, and yellow just flash red one way and yellow the other. The only traffic is feed trucks delivering grain to the Tyson chicken brooding house.
It is so hard to breathe. A single flood light illuminates my body. Gunner sits in Tree’s chair. I have to live to see if his girth can extricate his ass from a chair more suitable to Tree’s boney ass. I wonder if I make it till Tree shows up in the morning.
I
I’m 61 and she’s 19 or 20. …and Barb is crucified less than a mile away. She sprawls seductively on the bare Murphy bed. I tell her (paraphrasing Leon Russell) “I could love you in a place where there’s no space in time. But you are in my space and as tempting as you are this is not that time. Thank you for the offer but please go, Judy.”
She shrugs and walks to the door and says “Don’t expect me to offer twice, old man.”
“Go, Judy”
Through the window I watch her sashay naked and barefoot across the gravel parking lot.
Wake, reaching for yesterday
Up, washing the sleep away
My mind, full of the games you play all the time
I, roll up a cigarette
Sit down, trying hard to forget
Your face, when you turned and left me again
It's not a game
Seeing your face on the wall, when it's only in a frame
It's not the same
Sleeping without you at night, not knowing if I will again
Magic mirror shines
Memories of yesterday
You wouldn't go and you couldn't stay
Deceitfully blind
To you wanting your way
Where will you go, where will you stay
Where will you stay
You wouldn't say
You wouldn't say
You've gone away
Can't help feeling sad but then I'm glad
You'll realize your heartaches today
I see your eyes
Yes the eyes that used to shine with secret tears
You know you always used to cry
I'll wait for tomorrow
Yes, I'll wait for tomorrow
Haven't I told you
Just want to hold you
You know that yesterday
You took my smallest part so carelessly away
Have all your memories gone suddenly to sleep
Your golden head
The empty bed
The empty bed and now there is another day
But where are you
What can I do?
You once said
Ours is terrestrial love
Such a feeling left along with your case
It's such a fight
'Cause every window I pass
Keeps reflecting visions of your face
Like a Spider's web
Weaving me round and round again
Will it let go, can I clear my head
There's a thousand things
Not only the empty bed
Why did you go? was it something I said?
Let me clear my head
Was I misled?
I wish I was dead
You've gone away
Can't help feeling sad but then I'm glad
You'll realize your heartaches today
I see your eyes
Yes the eyes that used to shine with secret tears
You know you always used to cry
I'll wait for tomorrow
Yes, I'll wait for tomorrow
Haven't I told you
Just want to hold you
You know that yesterday
You took my smallest part so carelessly away
Have all your memories gone suddenly to sleep
Your golden head
The empty bed
The empty bed and now that you have gone away
Where are you
What can I do?
My cigarette's gone out
It's late, no one's about
Guess I'll try
Put you right out of my mind
-Empty Bed (Io Me Ne Andrei)
Tree
Boredom meets pain! That's putting it mildly to say the least! 
So why do I miss him? Is it his bony ass? His irreverence? His nonchalance? His gruffness? That silly yellow hat? Certainly not his breath!!!!!
He does have a hold on me. Puts me in my place and keeps me there. And I am not referring to the nails driven through my wrists and feet! It's something magnetic and irresistible, beyond ordinary comprehension!
Maybe it's just the new turn in his writing? I can see the two stop lights blinking in that stupid Arkansas burg just as he describes them. And Gunner looking up at me, and the diner where he is eating breakfast and drinking dessert. The mood is dark and the images brilliant. Thanks for the latest Tree
(Or is the brilliance just those friggin floodlights shining in my face and illuminating my long suffering crucified naked body?)
Happy to oblige and am pleased you liked it!!!View attachment 521999 Boredom meets pain! That's putting it mildly to say the least!
So why do I miss him? Is it his bony ass? His irreverence? His nonchalance? His gruffness? That silly yellow hat? Certainly not his breath!!!!!
He does have a hold on me. Puts me in my place and keeps me there. And I am not referring to the nails driven through my wrists and feet! It's something magnetic and irresistible, beyond ordinary comprehension!
Maybe it's just the new turn in his writing? I can see the two stop lights blinking in that stupid Arkansas burg just as he describes them. And Gunner looking up at me, and the diner where he is eating breakfast and drinking dessert. The mood is dark and the images brilliant. Thanks for the latest Tree
(Or is the brilliance just those friggin floodlights shining in my face and illuminating my long suffering crucified naked body?)
There's no doubt... this guy's on form at the moment!
And just look at that backlit drop of blood!
Yes, I agree. A superb manip! Well done that Tree.There's no doubt... this guy's on form at the moment!
View attachment 522013
And just look at that backlit drop of blood!
Tree falls asleep around 3 AM. He is not happy that Barb wasn’t crucified until one in the afternoon. If she had been crucified at nine AM she would have been on the cross for four hours when the heat of the day hit and the heat would have taken a greater toll. Because of TV requirements she was crucified right as the heat was peaking while she was still ‘fresh’. Even though Tree nailed Barb to the cross with her arms in a wide ‘V’ and her knees barely bent that day and a half looks unlikely- more like two days. This time of year it’s about 10 hours from sunset to sunrise. Toss in twilight and predawn it is dark less than 8 hours. Bull has replaced Gunner watch as the Dan’s early light starts to tint the sky.
I sleep fitfully during the night or maybe I am just drifting in and out of consciousness. Night is worse than day. In the day I can guess time’s passage by the position of the sun. I face north so my cross and I are an improved sundial. At night with the clouds I can’t get a feel for time. Stretched on the front of the cross as I am my writhing is limited to pushing up maybe a half foot and moving my tight little from one side of the stipe to the other. My shoulders are in constant agony and my ribs seem to constrict my lungs. My sternum feels like it is pressing on my heart. I think it would be better to have been crucified in Roman times when I would have known every bit as well how much I hurt now but wouldn’t know the science of how the cross is slowly killing me.
I notice there is color in the sky.
Soon my cross and I will be a sundial again. I am fucking freezing on this damn cross. A front moved through sometime in the night and my teeth are chattering.
It is 67°F (around 19.5°C) with low humidity. Most people would find it pleasant but most people haven’t been crucified for 16 hours…
The sun clears the eastern horizon as a glowing orb against a reddish-orange sky. The old saying pops into my head: “Red sky at night- travelers’ delight. Red sky at morning travelers take warning.”
WhatMoore more could can go wrong? I have a splitting headache to go along with my tortured body. I look down at Bull and ask if I could have a couple Tylenol.
“No”
“Aleve?”
“No”
“Plain aspirin?”
“NO, BARB!”
“Damn it Bull I have a headache and every muscle hurts” I scream.
“That is kind of the point of being crucified, young lady.”
I huff and ask “How about a Madame Wu? Tree always give me Madame Wu’s!”
“Don’t insult me by saying I look like Tree” Bull replies.
I think I drift off…
“Barb! Barb, wake-up!”
I look down and see Messa below me.
She looks up at me and says “I am so jealous of you! You are almost as fine an adornment of my premium French crucifixion wood as I am!”
“If you wish I will gladly trade places with you” I say.
“PHFFFTTT, in a heartbeat I would but I have contracts for my autumn crux tour” she says.
It is almost noon before Tree shows up. He looks me over and says “You look good, Barb.”
“Thank you I think” I reply. “You’re up awfully late. Were you fucking some relative until the wee hours of the morning?”
“I passed on it.”
“Tree I am sore, I have a headache, and I am hungry. Can I have a Madame Wu?”
“You smoked the last pack I brought” he says.
“Fucking great; do you have any beef jerky?”
“If I did how in the hell would you eat it?”
“I was thinking of trying to swallow it whole and choking to death on it… I guess that means ‘no’, right?”
Barb Moore –losing it
Tree
I sleep fitfully during the night or maybe I am just drifting in and out of consciousness. Night is worse than day. In the day I can guess time’s passage by the position of the sun. I face north so my cross and I are an improved sundial. At night with the clouds I can’t get a feel for time. Stretched on the front of the cross as I am my writhing is limited to pushing up maybe a half foot and moving my tight little from one side of the stipe to the other. My shoulders are in constant agony and my ribs seem to constrict my lungs. My sternum feels like it is pressing on my heart. I think it would be better to have been crucified in Roman times when I would have known every bit as well how much I hurt now but wouldn’t know the science of how the cross is slowly killing me.
I notice there is color in the sky.
Soon my cross and I will be a sundial again. I am fucking freezing on this damn cross. A front moved through sometime in the night and my teeth are chattering.
It is 67°F (around 19.5°C) with low humidity. Most people would find it pleasant but most people haven’t been crucified for 16 hours…
The sun clears the eastern horizon as a glowing orb against a reddish-orange sky. The old saying pops into my head: “Red sky at night- travelers’ delight. Red sky at morning travelers take warning.”
What
“No”
“Aleve?”
“No”
“Plain aspirin?”
“NO, BARB!”
“Damn it Bull I have a headache and every muscle hurts” I scream.
“That is kind of the point of being crucified, young lady.”
I huff and ask “How about a Madame Wu? Tree always give me Madame Wu’s!”
“Don’t insult me by saying I look like Tree” Bull replies.
I think I drift off…
“Barb! Barb, wake-up!”
I look down and see Messa below me.
She looks up at me and says “I am so jealous of you! You are almost as fine an adornment of my premium French crucifixion wood as I am!”
“If you wish I will gladly trade places with you” I say.
“PHFFFTTT, in a heartbeat I would but I have contracts for my autumn crux tour” she says.
It is almost noon before Tree shows up. He looks me over and says “You look good, Barb.”
“Thank you I think” I reply. “You’re up awfully late. Were you fucking some relative until the wee hours of the morning?”
“I passed on it.”
“Tree I am sore, I have a headache, and I am hungry. Can I have a Madame Wu?”
“You smoked the last pack I brought” he says.
“Fucking great; do you have any beef jerky?”
“If I did how in the hell would you eat it?”
“I was thinking of trying to swallow it whole and choking to death on it… I guess that means ‘no’, right?”
Barb Moore –losing it
Tree
Who would have ever guessed that one could be crucified and cold? But I am. It gets cool at night in NE Arkansas, just like at home. But what's this about me being a sundial? That has to be a new wrinkle to how one describes a crucifixion. 
Oh, and here comes the sun. I can almost here the strains of that song, "It's a beautiful morning", but I am focused instead on observing my shadow and how it can be likened to that of a sundial. Don't laugh. Ya gotta do something up here to take your mind off what's really happening!
Damnit Tree. I told you to stop posting that shot of me !!!!! 
Mmmmmmmmmmmmmm 
He's back and about time too! Btw, why does he wear white pants? The stains all show so much. Why does that matter? He's right! I am losing it! 
Another great episode Tree. Sixteen hours and counting. You're right, missing the heat of the day means I am still up here and able to suffer through a second day. Will it be an August scorcher? How many more episodes can I last nailed naked to this cross?
The white pants are painters' pants. They cost around $16, are made in the US, and use bleachView attachment 522096 Who would have ever guessed that one could be crucified and cold? But I am. It gets cool at night in NE Arkansas, just like at home. But what's this about me being a sundial? That has to be a new wrinkle to how one describes a crucifixion.
View attachment 522097 Oh, and here comes the sun. I can almost here the strains of that song, "It's a beautiful morning", but I am focused instead on observing my shadow and how it can be likened to that of a sundial. Don't laugh. Ya gotta do something up here to take your mind off what's really happening!
View attachment 522098 Damnit Tree. I told you to stop posting that shot of me !!!!!
View attachment 522099 Mmmmmmmmmmmmmm
View attachment 522100 He's back and about time too! Btw, why does he wear white pants? The stains all show so much. Why does that matter? He's right! I am losing it!
Another great episode Tree. Sixteen hours and counting. You're right, missing the heat of the day means I am still up here and able to suffer through a second day. Will it be an August scorcher? How many more episodes can I last nailed naked to this cross?
I thought with your scientific mind you would appreciate the sundial imagery...
1:06 PM; Barb has been crucified for just over 24 hours. On the north bank of the Arkansas River a pair of PAWS operatives set up for their mission. They are in the bordering the bank of the river. Judy Tree looks through her binoculars and murmurs “Goddamn, it’s a shame to waste tits that fine!”
“We ain’t wasting shit, Sister. We don’t have the forces to get through security and rescue her. Barb would understand we are putting her out of her misery and we live to fight another day. Did you tell Tree you are a nun?”
“NO! You told me you wanted me to seduce him. Do you think he would even want to fuck a nun?”
“Cousin, do you think he is not a branch off the oak tree?”
She speaks into her headset saying “L’il Siss, is the Jeep running?’
“It is. Make it a clean shot.”
“I promise” the shooter replies as she pulls the headphones off. “Make sure the path to the Jeep is clear, Judy.”
Judy runs the path with a Glock 9 mm in one hand and an Uzi in the other with ammunition belts crossing her chest with clips for both guns. The path was clear all way to the beat-to-shit 2009 Jeep Wrangler that had been spray-painted in camouflage with Rust-O-Leum spray cans with a Confederate flag hand-painted on the hood and has a 9” lift kit and tires big enough to hide bodies in. Surely no one in NW Arkansas could give accurate description of the get-away vehicle. It could be anyone of their relatives.
I have been crucified for more than a day. The pain constantly wracks my body. Stretched as I am I cannot move much to give relief to a joint or muscle even at the expense of some other part of my body. Breathing is difficult and if I sneeze or cough it feels like my chest will tear open. Snot runs from my nose and I can’t reach my arms to wipe it off. The logical side of my brain says quit trying to live but the spiritual side orders my body to keep fighting for each breath. Let this end soon I beg.
She looks through the scope. There is little wind and the laser has determined the distance and the trajectory of the .50 cal. (13 mm) slug she is about to put between Barb’s beautiful breasts.
She squeezes the trigger…
I see the spray of blood long before the report of the rifle crosses the river. Barb looks down at her chest and sees blood oozing from the entry wound. The bullet has smashed her breastbone and heart before ripping her spine then embedding 4 inches into the stipe. Barb lifts her head and says “Tree, I think I am dead. Thanks for not fucking Jud…”
Barb's head rolls forward until her chin hits her chest. I too think she's dead.
I walk over to the table where Messa drinks her wine. She says “Well, Tree, I didn’t see that coming.”
I can’t say I did either…
So that concludes ‘Ending One’. Long suffering readers will remember back in court I said there would be alternate endings and Tree never reneges on such a thread…
Thanks for spending time here…
Ol’ Oak
“We ain’t wasting shit, Sister. We don’t have the forces to get through security and rescue her. Barb would understand we are putting her out of her misery and we live to fight another day. Did you tell Tree you are a nun?”
“NO! You told me you wanted me to seduce him. Do you think he would even want to fuck a nun?”
“Cousin, do you think he is not a branch off the oak tree?”
She speaks into her headset saying “L’il Siss, is the Jeep running?’
“It is. Make it a clean shot.”
“I promise” the shooter replies as she pulls the headphones off. “Make sure the path to the Jeep is clear, Judy.”
Judy runs the path with a Glock 9 mm in one hand and an Uzi in the other with ammunition belts crossing her chest with clips for both guns. The path was clear all way to the beat-to-shit 2009 Jeep Wrangler that had been spray-painted in camouflage with Rust-O-Leum spray cans with a Confederate flag hand-painted on the hood and has a 9” lift kit and tires big enough to hide bodies in. Surely no one in NW Arkansas could give accurate description of the get-away vehicle. It could be anyone of their relatives.
I have been crucified for more than a day. The pain constantly wracks my body. Stretched as I am I cannot move much to give relief to a joint or muscle even at the expense of some other part of my body. Breathing is difficult and if I sneeze or cough it feels like my chest will tear open. Snot runs from my nose and I can’t reach my arms to wipe it off. The logical side of my brain says quit trying to live but the spiritual side orders my body to keep fighting for each breath. Let this end soon I beg.
She looks through the scope. There is little wind and the laser has determined the distance and the trajectory of the .50 cal. (13 mm) slug she is about to put between Barb’s beautiful breasts.
She squeezes the trigger…
I see the spray of blood long before the report of the rifle crosses the river. Barb looks down at her chest and sees blood oozing from the entry wound. The bullet has smashed her breastbone and heart before ripping her spine then embedding 4 inches into the stipe. Barb lifts her head and says “Tree, I think I am dead. Thanks for not fucking Jud…”
Barb's head rolls forward until her chin hits her chest. I too think she's dead.
I walk over to the table where Messa drinks her wine. She says “Well, Tree, I didn’t see that coming.”
I can’t say I did either…
So that concludes ‘Ending One’. Long suffering readers will remember back in court I said there would be alternate endings and Tree never reneges on such a thread…
Thanks for spending time here…
Ol’ Oak
We shall see...View attachment 522338 Tumescent to the end. Amazing how much sweat a body can produce!
View attachment 522337 What's that little red dot doing between my boobs?
View attachment 522336 Oh shit!
Better luck in ending #2???? Hope so!
BARB ENDING TWO
In her cell Barb watches proceeding on close circuit TV. She really doesn’t care who wins. If the IMF wins she will be crucified by an Arkansas carpenter on Arkansas pine. If Tree wins he crucifies her on premium French wood. Either way she ends up on a cross.
Since the IMF filed the suit they present their argument first. They explain that since Arkansas is a ‘right to work’ they are under no obligation to use out-of-state labor just to meet union demands. They demand the court grants them permission to use top grade Arkansas Pine instead of the imported Messaline’s Premium French Crucifixion Wood™. The judge looks at Tree and says “You damn well better have a good rebuttal or I am going to allow the IMF’s request. We do not take kindly to carpetbagger contractors coming into our great state using foreign wood when our top grade pine is second to none!”
I lean towards the television to hear what bullshit Tree is going to come up. There is no doubt in my mind some idiot hick is going to be nailing me to crap Arkansas rot not suitable to even make a picnic table!
-Barbara Moore
Tree clears his throat and says “You Honor, both my parents were born and raised in Tontitown in Washington County not far from here. I attended the annual grape festival there many times. My uncle and two aunts, a priest and two nuns served at the abbey west of here on Route 22 just before you get to Paris. I tried to marry my first cousin but she turned me down. I do not feel that I fit the description of a ‘carpetbagger’.”
“Mr. Tree, I was unaware of your background, sir! Please accept my apologies! May I ask why your first cousin wouldn’t marry you” he asks.
“No apologies needed. She didn’t like that I nail naked women to crosses for a living.”
“I see. But that aside what do you have to rebut the IMF’s request?”
“I do indeed. Let me say I have nothing against Arkansas’s fine pine- I used it on the Hill of 100 Cross™ at the end of the Great Slave Rebellion of 2013- as the sole US distributor of Messa’s crux wood I am contractually bound to use it for all crucifixions and can only sell it to members of the International Brotherhood of Master Crucifixion Technicians.”
Tree hands a notarized copy of contract to the bailiff. The judge mulls over it and says “Very well but is this all you have?”
Tree hands more papers to the bailiff and explained “These are abacus briefs from…”
“You mean amicus briefs?”
“Whatever” Tree says “they are from the State Department warning allowing the IMF to use anything but Messa’s crux wood could start a trade war and from the president stating she will withhold all discretionary spending to Arkansas if you rule in favor of the IMF.”
“Let them do it! We here in Arkansas don’t view kindly the federal government since they sent in the 101 Airborne Division to desegregate Little Rock Central High School. We believe in states’ rights” the judge scolds Tree.
“Jeez, your honor, the desegregation thing was 96 years ago (remember it is 2053). As for states’ rights I believe you hold the Arkansas state constitution at least as dear as the US Constitution and you vowed to uphold the laws of this great state.”
“Damn right on both counts” the judge bellows.
“Then may I remind you SB 197, section 6, paragraph 4 which states “By allowing the IMF to operate in this state the IMF agrees that in the rare occasions they deem necessary crucifixion as the method of execution only Messaline’s Premium French Crucifixion Wood™ shall be used for the construction of the cross”. Are you going to ignore the laws of the great state of Arkansas?”
The judge looks at his screen and sees that indeed that is the law (Yes THT has lobbyists). The judge looks over at the IMF’s legal team and says “In order for you to crucify this Barbara Moore you have to use the foreign wood and abide by the terms of the restrictions of the contract as supported by the Uniform Commercial Code.”
“Then we will hang her instead” the lead attorney exclaims.
“I don’t think so” Tree says with a smirk on his face. “You see her sentence says she will be ‘executed by crucifixion’. Since you can’t crucify her you can’t execute her and since you can’t execute her you have to set her free!”
Damn did Tree really save me?
-Barbara Moore
“Your Honor” the Prosecutor Jollyrei says “the transcript of convict Moore’s sentencing hearing was produced by an intern from a blue Yankee state from recordings of the proceedings. I don’t have to tell you them Northerners speak with a funny accent and talk with a funny accent and with sin tax…”
“You mean syntax.”
“That’s what I said” Jollyrei replies. “So the young intern didn’t understand there should have been a ‘period’ between ‘executed’ and “I recommend by crucifixion’.”
“Objection, your honor, the transcript does not have the words ‘I recommend’ in it at all.”
The judge glares at Tree and says “First of all how do I know this ‘intern’ isn’t some PAWS ‘plant’ and you aren’t in cahoots with her to save Miss Moore’s tight little?”
“Does that seem likely since I am here arguing to crucify her myself” Tree asks.
“Listen, Mr. Tree, being from St. Louis even with your roots you are damn close to being a Yankee yourself!”
“Your honor I grew up in south St. Louis” Tree explains.
“Yes but your bio says you were raised a Catholic dago. That’s mighty suspicious to me. And as you so noted I uphold the laws of the great state of Arkansas and since hanging was a legal means of execution I declare the convict Moore be hanged by the neck until dead. And to make this interesting just 30 or so miles west of here is the town of Paris where just over 103 years ago Arkansas held its last public hanging. I think Miss Moore would appreciate being hanged there. Can the IMF supply a hangman?”
Prosecutor Jollyrei says “If it pleases the court since Moore wanted to see a Kathy Summers hanging I suggest we delay Miss Moore’s hanging until a week from Saturday and she can experience Summer’s work up close and personal.”
“That is diabolically artistic” the judge laughs. “Mr. Tree I don’t suppose you have a monopoly on hemp rope, do you?”
“No your honor” he says. He stares at the judge as he knows he just lost another court case.
Damn it! Just when I was getting used to the idea of being crucified I am back to being hanged. I look down at the chain dangling from my collar and think I am so doomed!
-Barb …she really is!!!
Tree
In her cell Barb watches proceeding on close circuit TV. She really doesn’t care who wins. If the IMF wins she will be crucified by an Arkansas carpenter on Arkansas pine. If Tree wins he crucifies her on premium French wood. Either way she ends up on a cross.
Since the IMF filed the suit they present their argument first. They explain that since Arkansas is a ‘right to work’ they are under no obligation to use out-of-state labor just to meet union demands. They demand the court grants them permission to use top grade Arkansas Pine instead of the imported Messaline’s Premium French Crucifixion Wood™. The judge looks at Tree and says “You damn well better have a good rebuttal or I am going to allow the IMF’s request. We do not take kindly to carpetbagger contractors coming into our great state using foreign wood when our top grade pine is second to none!”
I lean towards the television to hear what bullshit Tree is going to come up. There is no doubt in my mind some idiot hick is going to be nailing me to crap Arkansas rot not suitable to even make a picnic table!
-Barbara Moore
Tree clears his throat and says “You Honor, both my parents were born and raised in Tontitown in Washington County not far from here. I attended the annual grape festival there many times. My uncle and two aunts, a priest and two nuns served at the abbey west of here on Route 22 just before you get to Paris. I tried to marry my first cousin but she turned me down. I do not feel that I fit the description of a ‘carpetbagger’.”
“Mr. Tree, I was unaware of your background, sir! Please accept my apologies! May I ask why your first cousin wouldn’t marry you” he asks.
“No apologies needed. She didn’t like that I nail naked women to crosses for a living.”
“I see. But that aside what do you have to rebut the IMF’s request?”
“I do indeed. Let me say I have nothing against Arkansas’s fine pine- I used it on the Hill of 100 Cross™ at the end of the Great Slave Rebellion of 2013- as the sole US distributor of Messa’s crux wood I am contractually bound to use it for all crucifixions and can only sell it to members of the International Brotherhood of Master Crucifixion Technicians.”
Tree hands a notarized copy of contract to the bailiff. The judge mulls over it and says “Very well but is this all you have?”
Tree hands more papers to the bailiff and explained “These are abacus briefs from…”
“You mean amicus briefs?”
“Whatever” Tree says “they are from the State Department warning allowing the IMF to use anything but Messa’s crux wood could start a trade war and from the president stating she will withhold all discretionary spending to Arkansas if you rule in favor of the IMF.”
“Let them do it! We here in Arkansas don’t view kindly the federal government since they sent in the 101 Airborne Division to desegregate Little Rock Central High School. We believe in states’ rights” the judge scolds Tree.
“Jeez, your honor, the desegregation thing was 96 years ago (remember it is 2053). As for states’ rights I believe you hold the Arkansas state constitution at least as dear as the US Constitution and you vowed to uphold the laws of this great state.”
“Damn right on both counts” the judge bellows.
“Then may I remind you SB 197, section 6, paragraph 4 which states “By allowing the IMF to operate in this state the IMF agrees that in the rare occasions they deem necessary crucifixion as the method of execution only Messaline’s Premium French Crucifixion Wood™ shall be used for the construction of the cross”. Are you going to ignore the laws of the great state of Arkansas?”
The judge looks at his screen and sees that indeed that is the law (Yes THT has lobbyists). The judge looks over at the IMF’s legal team and says “In order for you to crucify this Barbara Moore you have to use the foreign wood and abide by the terms of the restrictions of the contract as supported by the Uniform Commercial Code.”
“Then we will hang her instead” the lead attorney exclaims.
“I don’t think so” Tree says with a smirk on his face. “You see her sentence says she will be ‘executed by crucifixion’. Since you can’t crucify her you can’t execute her and since you can’t execute her you have to set her free!”
Damn did Tree really save me?
-Barbara Moore
“Your Honor” the Prosecutor Jollyrei says “the transcript of convict Moore’s sentencing hearing was produced by an intern from a blue Yankee state from recordings of the proceedings. I don’t have to tell you them Northerners speak with a funny accent and talk with a funny accent and with sin tax…”
“You mean syntax.”
“That’s what I said” Jollyrei replies. “So the young intern didn’t understand there should have been a ‘period’ between ‘executed’ and “I recommend by crucifixion’.”
“Objection, your honor, the transcript does not have the words ‘I recommend’ in it at all.”
The judge glares at Tree and says “First of all how do I know this ‘intern’ isn’t some PAWS ‘plant’ and you aren’t in cahoots with her to save Miss Moore’s tight little?”
“Does that seem likely since I am here arguing to crucify her myself” Tree asks.
“Listen, Mr. Tree, being from St. Louis even with your roots you are damn close to being a Yankee yourself!”
“Your honor I grew up in south St. Louis” Tree explains.
“Yes but your bio says you were raised a Catholic dago. That’s mighty suspicious to me. And as you so noted I uphold the laws of the great state of Arkansas and since hanging was a legal means of execution I declare the convict Moore be hanged by the neck until dead. And to make this interesting just 30 or so miles west of here is the town of Paris where just over 103 years ago Arkansas held its last public hanging. I think Miss Moore would appreciate being hanged there. Can the IMF supply a hangman?”
Prosecutor Jollyrei says “If it pleases the court since Moore wanted to see a Kathy Summers hanging I suggest we delay Miss Moore’s hanging until a week from Saturday and she can experience Summer’s work up close and personal.”
“That is diabolically artistic” the judge laughs. “Mr. Tree I don’t suppose you have a monopoly on hemp rope, do you?”
“No your honor” he says. He stares at the judge as he knows he just lost another court case.
Damn it! Just when I was getting used to the idea of being crucified I am back to being hanged. I look down at the chain dangling from my collar and think I am so doomed!
-Barb …she really is!!!
Tree
WELL! This is a fine fix you got me into Tree! You lost yet another case! Geeze!!!!! And how relevant is it to tell the judge that you attend the annual grape festival in Tontitown? How is that a wining argument? All it shows is that you are a fruit. And what use is it to wear shades in court? With my life on the line please show a little dignity (thank goodness he didn't show up in his paint pants)!!!
So now I am
The 103 years is how long ago (July 1914) since the last public hanging in Arkansas and it happened in Paris, Ark. I think you showed be honored they are bring it back just for you! It would be a waste to hang your tight little from the gallows in the prison without a crowd watching...View attachment 522497 WELL! This is a fine fix you got me into Tree! You lost yet another case! Geeze!!!!! And how relevant is it to tell the judge that you attend the annual grape festival in Tontitown? How is that a wining argument? All it shows is that you are a fruit. And what use is it to wear shades in court? With my life on the line please show a little dignity (thank goodness he didn't show up in his paint pants)!!!
View attachment 522498 So now I amfuckeddoomed to die naked with a noose around my neck in a tiny burg called Paris (Arkansas), where they reportedly first hung someone 103 years ago. Is the number 103 significant? It's certainly not the age of the rotgut Tree drinks. So that can't be it. At least the crowd is bound to be small. No one will ever be able to find the place! Even the Pres can truthfully claim that his inauguration crowd was larger than my gallows crowd will be.
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