Banana Hammock Read Online Free PDF Page B

boredom, boring other people, disgust with the lack of quality programming on television, itching, diarrhea, and instant death if you do anything stupid, like the examples noted above. Void where prohibited, and in the state of Maryland.
    † Nook doesn’t really cure cancer. But it does cure unhappiness.

“Mmmm-mmm. This is some fine pie, Amos.”
    I wiped off my mouth on his wife’s dress and gave the little filly a playful slap on the ass.
    “I’m glad you enjoyed them, Brother McGlade. I’d offer you more, but you’ve eaten all six.”
    It was just as well. I needed to lose some weight. I know this because I’ve got a recent picture of me hanging on the wall, and it keeps falling off.
    “Just bring over that tub of lard and that bag of brown sugar,” I said. “That’ll be fine.”
    I dipped my finger in the lard, then the sugar, and licked it clean. I could certainly see the appeal of living like this, eating organic, with no harsh chemical additives like guar gum, or yellow number 5, or H2O. I hated harmful additives so much that I’ve completely given up soda pop, which was bad for you. These days I drink only straight corn syrup.
    “So you say a woman named Lulu hired you?” Amos asked.
    “Did I?” I was on my second lard-finger, sucking up the health benefits.
    “The worry is, Brother McGlade, we’ve been having some trouble lately. A construction company keeps trying to buy our land. They’ve sent in their heavies to beat us, day and night. Our children, too. Little Amos there has two freshly broken legs.”
    I glanced at some child on crutches, his eyes red from crying.
    “Yeah, that’s a real tragedy,” I said. “Now hobble over to the cupboard for me, Little Amos, and get Brother Harry that pound of butter.”
    Like a good little Ahmlet, he listened to his elder.
    “And keep the moaning down,” I said. “I’m eating here.”
    “We’ve even gone to the local authorities,” Amos continued, apparently thinking I cared. “But the construction company paid them off. They dragged old Amos out into the field the other day, and kicked him between the legs so many times his procreation parts swelled up to the size of a suckling piglet.”
    I dipped my finger in the butter, then the sugar, then the lard, and took a big lick. Downhome goodness. “I don’t care about your quaint local customs, Amos. I’m here to find out who Lulu’s husband is screwing.”
    “Please, Brother McGlade.” Amos’s wife clasped her hands over Little Amos’s ears, so hard she knocked away his crutches. “Language.”
    “Oops. My bad. Let me rephrase it for the sensitive viewers. All I care about is finding the…
lady
… that Amos is…
making babies
with.”
    “Thank you,” Mrs. Amos said.
    I nodded. “Of course, it isn’t really making babies if they’re sucking each other off, or if he’s drilling her up the shit chute.”
    “Mother, you and Little Amos go into the bedroom,” Amos told them. They hurried away, as fast as his painful little broken legs could carry him.
    “Brother McGlade, I don’t mean to be hospitable…”
    “Then don’t,” I grinned, giving him a friendly tug on his beard.
    “Brother McGlade…”
    “Look,” I said, sticking the jar of lard under my arm. “I’m very busy, and you plainly aren’t helping. Get it?
Plainly
?”
    “Brother McGlade…”
    “How many of you moronites are in this little settlement?”
    “It’s Mennonites.”
    “Aren’t those the things in the ocean, like coral?”
    “You’re thinking of anemones.”
    “So how many of you anemones are in this little settlement?”
    “Our settlement has two hundred and eighteen folk here.”
    “Holy shit! That many? How many families is that?”
    “Seventeen.”
    “Damn! And your women are so damn plain!”
    Amos nodded humbly. “The Lord said to multiply.”
    “Maybe he was talking about being good at math. Man, haven’t any of you heard of condoms? Maybe you should grow those, instead of