My Friends,

I warned you that I would send a newsletter once a month. I'm making the 15th of the month my target date for the monthly letter.

(Credit given below)

I know, right?

I needed to put a picture in there before I treat you to this little adventure I had. I may not often put in an entire story like this, but I am this time. In the future, I may just give the first paragraph, and then link to the rest of the story. At any rate, this content is exclusive to the newsletter, and not currently found elsewhere. Let me know what you think of Clyde and this story. (And the "Awesome" picture above is from the Lileks.com, a website I frequent for the daily bleat as well as other interesting stuff. I recommend it).

Knife Fight over a Body

He had Clyde dismembered by the time I got there. He was slicing the meat from Clyde’s ribs when I walked inside. He handed me a rib and told me to cut off the meat. It was too late to help Clyde now. I couldn’t see any reason to get myself stabbed on his account, but I did—get stabbed, that is. I picked up a bigger knife. It had been a good long while since I had done any serious knife work, and the foot long blade did me no favors in those close quarters. It was like trying to pole vault inside a phone booth. In the ensuing fight, the wicked point of the blade took me in the knuckle of the left thumb. Later, I took a stab wound to the left index finger. Fortunately, the knife-wielder possessed no great skill, and those were the only hurts I took. As you might expect, neither wound was fatal, and both were self-inflicted.

I had seen Clyde’s body hanging in the tree the week before, so it was never about saving Clyde. It was about… Well, I’m not going to explain what it was all about. So Clyde was dead and Dad had dismembered the body. He was nearly finished with the torso when Sean and I arrived. The band saw makes quick work of a body. Of course, Dad had used the chainsaw to quarter the corpse. Before we finished with the torso, Cam showed up with his own knives. He prefers to use his own steel when he’s of a mind to tear into a corpse. The three of us worked the knives while Dad ran the band saw. I took the sliced flesh into the house and got a bandage for my thumb. It had started bleeding only moments after the first deadly attack. As for the stab in the index finger, Clyde was pretty fat, so I let the grease residue from handling his flesh plug the small wound.

Later, Cam and I each carried in a leg from out at the tree. Dad removed the feet with the chainsaw. I experienced a shower in shavings of flesh, fat, tendon, and bone when Dad started with the chainsaw on the first leg while I was still trying to position the second. After that it was all band saw and knife work, aside from putting the smaller stuff through the grinder and wrapping all the pieces so that they could be safely concealed in cold dark places.

So far, Clyde has acquired a very tasty rating.

____________________

Let me know what you thought.

--Stanley --

oh, I should make some kind of logo to go here. Maybe something from my next book cover. I'll work on that.