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Post by thegooddoctorwho on Sept 30, 2008 18:04:22 GMT -5
Just saw you there, Jess. I must say it was the best afternoon I've had in a long time... I saw a lot of video cameras, any chance this gets posted on Youtube? I'd do anything to get a full, unedited video of today's events. Like I said, I had a good time, and God willing, this makes it to the internet. If not, I'm afraid the school newspaper coverage will have to be enough
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Post by kureji on Sept 30, 2008 21:49:31 GMT -5
he'll post some videos on youtube im sure
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Post by thegooddoctorwho on Oct 3, 2008 3:33:13 GMT -5
It was a bad year for corn, and it was a very bad year to be a corn farmer. Even James McDougal, who had stuck with corn for 15 years, asked himself every day why he didn't choose a different crop this season, all the while watching as the markets flooded with unwanted corn and his friends and neighbors lost their farms around him. He knew that he would be next. Already, his family was beginning to feel the repercussions of his choice. Money got tighter and tighter, and his family had less and less on their plates each time dinner came around. Poor Sarah... his wife struggled to keep them hopeful, to teach their son and daughter to smile even in the darkest of times, but James could tell that it was wearing on them all.
Jenny, his eleven year old daughter, was just like her mom. His son Lucas, though only six years old, was being remarkably tough. None of them ever complained, or showed that they were unhappy in the least. But still, James prayed every day that God would send him a sale. "Just enough to get by, Lord. That's all I'm asking... just enough." The weeks went by with no answer, and James was beginning to lose hope. Why was God letting this happen?
Then, one day, there was a knock at the door. There stood a husky old man in a white suit and hat with a large, grey mustache. He introduced himself in a Louisiana Southern gentleman's accent.
"Pleased to meet ya, son. The name's Sylvester DuBois, and I want to buy me some o' that corn."
James tried to remain calm so as not to scare the man off, but inside he was jumping with joy. Sylvester continued...
"Now, I heard about your plight, and it'd be a shame to let such a lovely, hard-working family go hungry. So I wanna make you a deal: I want two ears o' corn, every week. I'll come by to pick 'em up myself, and in return I'll pay ya enough to keep that family o' yours fed and clothed."
Of course, James accepted gratefully. Sylvester kept his end of the bargain, tremendously overpaying for the ears of corn and giving the McDougals a better life than they'd ever known. The family was flourishing; Sarah and the kids were happier than ever. Sylvester and James grew to be friends over the passing months, but when it came to corn, it was always strictly business. That's the way it should be, James reckoned, and it seemed to work. DuBois was his only customer, and James was the only farmer left who even bothered to grow corn anymore. Noone in the community ever knew why, and James happily kept the secret at Sylvester's suggestion.
But after many months, tragedy struck the McDougal farm. After his latest harvest, James couldn't seem to get any more corn to grow. He planted and planted, but not even a sprig peeked over the soil. He knew that Sylvester would soon be coming by to pick up his corn, and he knew that he would not have any to give. And there was the dreaded knock at the door.
"Now, I'm gonna give ya a week, James," the older man warned. "Either grow the corn or find it somewhere else, I don't much care. I like ya, but a man can't just go givin' people money for nothin'."
"Thanks, Sylvester," replied James. "I promise I'll get you the corn..."
But he didn't. Another week passed. Then another. And still nothing would grow. Sylvester continued to let it slide, but each visit was growing more and more tense, each request for corn becoming a little more urgent. Finally, a day came that James had been dreading for a long time. There was an all-too-familiar knock at the door, which he hesitantly answered.
"I've been a very patient man, James," Sylvester's began in his gruff voice. "I've had enough o' this, and it's time to end the free ride. Walk with me, boy, and we'll work out a new deal..."
There were no more words between them for a long, awkward time. James followed him down the long road, too afraid to ask where they were going. He saw soon enough, anyway. The road led them to the DuBois estate, a large, ancient manor surrounded by acres of hilly woodland. They continued past the house, and into the winding forest, eventually coming upon an abandoned, broken down shed. It was getting dark, but James could make out a large hole in the ground on the far side, filled with something, but he couldn't tell what it was.
They approached the hole, and as they stood at the edge Sylvester motioned for him to remain there. The old man took a few steps back, James following him silently with his eyes.
"I've been sorely missin' that corn, McDougal," said Sylvester.
James replied, "I know, Sylvester, I-I can't get it to grow!"
"No, I know ya can't. But that corn was very important to me, an' I can't just let ya go on without givin' me what's due."
"I'm trying!" James exclaimed, before quieting his voice in humility. "I'm trying..."
"Well, tryin' ain't good enough. If'n I can't have my corn, I'm gonna take the next best thing..."
"W-what's that?"
A click. James stared in horror at the revolver that was now being pointed at his chest.
"No!" he shouted in fear. "Sylvester, my family..."
"Your family," repeated DuBois. "I don't even have a family. No wife, no kids... just the corn, and that was enough. But now you've gone an' taken that from me!"
James wanted more than anything to take off running, but his legs would not move. Sylvester spoke once more...
"It's time for me t' get my dues, son..." he said, and fired his pistol. Bang. James clutched his chest, struggling in vain to stay on his feet as he slipped over the edge of the pit. Sylvester stepped on the ledge and stared fixedly down at him, watching him babble and choke on blood, unable to finish even a word.
"Listen here, McDougal," said Sylvester. "I'll take good care o' that family o' yours, so don't you worry about that."
With that, he tipped his hat and walked away whistling Dixie, and leaving James to die atop piles and piles of rotten corn.
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Post by kureji on Oct 3, 2008 10:34:43 GMT -5
that's an awesome story
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