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The Reparation Farm

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A ‘pop-up’ storm can last anywhere from a few big drops of rain to what is known as a ‘gully washer’ or a ‘frog choker’. The three slaves would find out what a ‘frog choker’ would be. In less than hour an inch of rain dumped on the crucified women with strong winds and hail pounding their helpless bodies. An hour later the heat and humidity is building up.

And then , they can be happy for not having a ............. tornado !!!:eek:
 

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“I doubt so at this time of night, Barb” she replies. “I don’t think so. It feels like a weather front. If we are lucky this could stir up a tornado and end this game.”
:doh: Damn ! Had I viewed right ?!:eek:

The storm dumps almost three inches of rain and winds exceed 60 MPH. Messa’s Premium French Crucifixion Wood seems to have passed the test…
321025171524_by_csmchowhk-datqg6i.jpg Did you doubt of that ?;)
 
And then , they can be happy for not having a ............. tornado !!!:eek:
Ye Gods! Imagine it! :eek:

Spun up into the clouds on your cross! :eek:

It could start a whole new religion! :doh:
 
It is still a few hours away from dawn’s early light. Theresa, Barb, and Kathy have been crucified 19 hours and suffered oppressive heat and two storms with the second worse than the first. It lasted several hours with high winds, hail and lightning. The storms knocked out power and the only light below the mound is from the plantation masters’ and overseers’ quarters that diesel generators keep both the lights and the air conditioning on.

I call out to Barb and Kathy but there is no answer. The rain has become just a mist but the clouds obscure the full moon and I cannot see their crosses flanking me

-Theresa

Only one camera on the mound still works. It is aimed at Theresa and her image is ghostly both from the night vision function and the raindrops that distort it. Tree lights his Zippo lighter and looks at his wind-up Westclox travel alarm and sees it is now 4:45 AM. It annoys him he does not know how Barb and Kathy are doing. He steps out of his million dollar Prevost motorhome (one of the few vehicles of his Barb and Siss haven’t stolen and wrecked) with his Seagram’s 7 and water and lights a Marlboro. He thinks it is damn near time to retire. Around him the only sounds he hears are generators that keep a few lights on and his motorhome cool.

tree god dark 3.jpg

At five-thirty the clouds begin to break revealing the first hint of dawn. He makes another drink and by the time he finishes it is six in the morning. Looking through binoculars he sees Theresa writhing on her cross, Kathy hanging limp from hers and has bled from her chest, and Barb’s cross stands vacant of Barb. He wonders what the hell is going on and packs a soft-sided cooler with ice, a 1.75 liter of Seagram’s and shoves a half carton of Marlboros in the side pocket thinking 100 cigarettes should get him safely to noon and begins his trek from the main gate of the slave compound around the perimeter that the three slave were led on their last walk to their crosses. His Red Wing boots were unfazed by the glass meant to block escape.

The sky lightens and I can see again and what it is! Below me Barb’s body lies next to the puddles left from the night’s rain.

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To my right Kathy hangs motionless with a wood stake piercing her chest. Did I sleep or faint? I remember nothing of this!”

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-Theresa

I walk up the path that three slaves had been marched to their crosses. It about a quarter to seven and the sun has been up around twenty minutes. As I get near the summit it is plain to see Barb’s cross is empty. At first I wonder if Plantation Master Gunner was so stupid as to allow a rescue outside the perimeter of the crucified slave Barb and then who would go through such an effort for her. As I near the plateau I see Theresa writhing and Kathy Summers with a wood shank driven into her heart. ‘What the fuck is going on’ I ask myself as I finish the climb.

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I see Barb lying at the base of Theresa’s cross and say “How the hell did she get here?”

“I was hoping you could tell me” Theresa replies. “Why did you kill them and leave me alive?”

“I didn’t kill them” I say as I flip Barb’s body with my boot from her back to her belly and look at the shards of wood that have lacerated her back.

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I look at Kathy’s dead body with the large shard of wood that pierced her chest and heart with such force it is buried into her cross’ stipe. Glancing back at the empty cross and see when the wood came from I realize what happened and say to Theresa “The Devil or God came and took them. Barb’s cross took a direct lightning strike and blew her off the cross. If the ‘juice’ didn’t kill her when her head hit that rock she was dead then. The 30,000 amps of the lightning bolt boiled what moisture was in the Messaline’s Premium French Crucifixion Wood™ blasting that piece through Kathy’s heart. Best I can figure you made it because Heaven doesn’t want you and the devil is afraid you’d take over.”

“Very funny” she groans. “So what happens to me?”

“You wait to die” I say as I walk down the mound.

“Fuck you” she yells back.

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“Yeah, whatever” I call back…

Tree
 
Tree lights his Zippo lighter and looks at his wind-up Westclox travel alarm and sees it is now 4:45 AM. It annoys him he does not know how Barb and Kathy are doing. He steps out of his million dollar Prevost motorhome (one of the few vehicles of his Barb and Siss haven’tstolen and wrecked) with his Seagram’s 7 and water and lights a Marlboro.

This is classic Tree self-deprecating humor!

“I didn’t kill them” I say as I flip Barb’s body with my boot from her back to her belly and look at the shards of wood that have lacerated her back.

And this is classic Tree disdain for the crucified and dead.
 
crux 307.jpg Smoking her first Mme Wu cigarette of the day, in having a little mocking smile, Mesa says :
"What the hell, Tree, but even if it's Premium Crucifixion Wood, it cant resist to such a huge lightning ( 30,000 amps !) and I also cant promise that it can ... Even into my French forest, some of them are touched by lightning and they die ...
But perhaps that you're right, perhaps that it's time to retire for you ; if you do, tell me the name of your successor .... for my business Super-Sexy-Work-Outfits-For-Modern-Women-25.jpg :D ... "
 
View attachment 508611 Smoking her first Mme Wu cigarette of the day, in having a little mocking smile, Mesa says :
"What the hell, Tree, but even if it's Premium Crucifixion Wood, it cant resist to such a huge lightning ( 30,000 amps !) and I also cant promise that it can ... Even into my French forest, some of them are touched by lightning and they die ...
But perhaps that you're right, perhaps that it's time to retire for you ; if you do, tell me the name of your successor .... for my business View attachment 508612 :D ... "
It's OK Messa, there is a clause in your contracts (and mine too) that indemnifies you from 'force majeure' and I believe a direct hit of lightning qualifies... I check with my uncle W. C. Tree and he agrees...
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11:00 AM CDT (-6 GMT) at the Repartations Farm outside of Hooker, Oklahoma…

Tree drives an UTV up the back of the mound. Out of sight of the slave compound he picks up an air rifle and fires a dart into Theresa’s ass. He puts the gun down and drives up to her. She is under more duress than ever the cross could offer. She looks down at him and asks what is going on.

crux 309.jpg

Tree looks around and sees the fried RR Video cables and says “You are getting the Mr. Wu/Messaline treatment.”

“What the fuck is that?”

“It means you will die to live another day” Tree says.

“What does that mean” Theresa asks.

Tree says nothing.

***

Theresa would soon ‘die’ just as Messa did in ‘Plans go awry’.

She would be nursed back to health and wouldn’t join Barb and Kathy in the burial pit that day.

There was one small complication from her escape from the cross. Theresa is pregnant. She refused to identify the father. How could she after being used by the overseers and plantation masters? They are exempt from DNA tests anyway.

She hires a lawyer to name her baby.

“I want this girl named after the women I was crucified with” she tells him. “I want her named ‘Kathleen Barbara Summers.”

“Hell, I can do that. Where do you want the hymens?”

“Don’t you mean the ‘hyphens’” Theresa asks wondering what kind of buffoon she had hired (the attorney is T. H. Tree).

Almost to moment she was crucified nine months ago Theresa would give birth to a healthy girl who indeed would be named Kathleen Barbara Summers, or ‘Kathy’.

We will have to look in on her a few decades from now…

The End

T
 
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