Suddenly there was a burst of light at the top of the basement stairs, concurrently with the sound of the creaking of a door, and then, in single file, down the stairs came three large inbred louts, each armed with a double-barreled shotgun.
One of them, the smallest one, (we found out later his name was Cletus) pointed his gun at me.
“You, handsome Dan, you’re first.”
“Don’t go,” said Paul.
“Tell ‘em to fuck themselves,” said Babe.
But this Cletus cocked both hammers of his shotgun, and, what are you going to do?
I got up.
“So long, pal,” said Paul.
“Later, dude,” said Babe.
“See ya when I see ya,” says I.
And up I went, with the three inbred bothers, Cletus, (and, as we were to learn their names anon) Festus, and Augustus.
They marched me up to the third floor, and, after giving me a bath in incense- scented water, and bidding me clean my teeth and shave my chin whiskers,
I was clad in a silk robe and taken to a bedroom, where awaited the three sisters: Letitia, Patricia, and Felicia.
The things they made me do the things they did to me I don’t even want to talk about.
Hours later the three inbred brothers dragged me back down to the basement, where Paul and Babe did the best they could to console me.
Next day it was Paul’s turn.
As painful as it had all been for me, I think it was even more horrifying for me to see this great giant, this paragon, this hero called Paul Bunyan, return a gibbering whimpering child.
Babe and I did what we could to comfort our friend.
Next day it was Babe’s turn.
“Good luck, old pal,” said Paul.
“Chin up, buddy,” says I.
“Yeah, right,” said Babe, noble Babe, Babe the great blue ox.
Some hours later the basement door opened again, and silhouetted in that coffin of light at the top of the stairs was Babe.
“Come on, you lazy bastards,” he yelled, “let’s go!”
He didn’t have to tell me and Paul twice.
We tramped up those stairs damned quick.
“Come on, pals,” said Babe, “time to hit the road.”
He led the way, and we followed him, and in the living room we saw the three inbred brothers, standing in a line, holding their shotguns at “order arms”.
“See ya later, fellas,” said Babe to the three inbred brothers, the ones he told us later were named Cletus, Festus, and Augustus.
And we walked right on out that front door, across that great big porch and down the steps, down the winding path down that hill, and through that cast-iron gate and back to the road.
“Babe,” said Paul, as we set sprightly off, southbound, as the sun began to set to our right, “what the hell happened in there?”
“Yeah,” I said, “what the hell, babe?”
“Fellas,” said Babe, “let’s just say I gave them three sisters all they wanted. And then I gave them just a little bit more.”
And he began to whistle a merry tune.
And, as the sun set, and as that road grew dark we walked along, the three of us, Paul Bunyan, Babe the great Blue Ox, and me.