Last time I went was when a so called friend dragged me out to the middle of nowhere to this little shack. I sat in there in the pews with my so called friend and waited. I figured he was up to some thing cause this ass never goes to church. Well from behind the stage come a figure I knew all too well, the county sheriff. He was the preacher of this backwater little hole in the wall slice of straight up insanity. On the stage with him was a large wicker basket that I had had my eye on as I could have sworn it was moving on its own. Well the preacher popped the lid off and reached and my Nam instint when in to ultra high gear. Bear in mind I had not been back in country more than a month. I ate, slept and bathed with my Colt 45 automatic. It was in a shoulder sling at that time also. Well that dumb s**t pulled out a black mamba and said that God will protect me from this demon. I flipped slap out. I pulled my gun and pointed it at him and said God will not protect you from me if you lose control of that snake. I crawled over my now ex friend and yell if you're going with me we are leaving now. I left him there and have not seen him since nor have I set foot in another so called church.
No way, no shape, no how...
