Amish is the new black
I was just in Ohio visiting my local Amish Wal-mart
. It sure was courteous of them to reserve spaces for my horse and carriage. Too bad the ole mare shat on that tiny Mini Cooper convertible autowagon. I was kind enough to leave a note on the windshield.
I was mighty impressed with all those blue smocks the kind store folks were wearing. Blue is a little non-traditional for the folks living in Bird In the Hand, and Reverend Jeb would sure have a fit if I were to wear anything of the sort to the Parrish.
There are so many lovely things stocked at the local Amish Wal-mart. I was a marveling at them fancy picture and noise boxes called Sanyo. Them images move like witchcraft. I quickly left that part of the store for fear of being ensnared by their wickedness.
When Sally Jane and Parker showed up, we headed over to the footwear department for some knee high socks. Mamma's getting tired of mending my worn out socks so it's best I buy some new ones, lest Aunt Patty insist on knitting me some new one with that itchy yarn she be spindling. I think her socks be like witchcraft.
I think there may be a sale on suspenders, so I stock up on an addition four pairs, all in black. Then that nice old lady in the blue smock with smiley face buttons goes and tells me them suspenders are "everyday low price". Well, I nearly flipped! If they are charging $3.95 for a pair of suspenders I'm going to get an extra eight pairs!
When I arrived at the Amish checkout, the cashier was kind enough to calculate my total payment on a handicrafted abacus and to bag by wares in a burlap sack.
When Sally Jane, Parker and I arrived back in the parking lot for our carriage, we was shocked! The old mare was shot dead and lay in a hump. Pinned to her left ear was a note.
"You shit in my car, you pay, you inbred Amish fuck!"