As I emerged from the thinly populated trees, an awful, pungent odor attacked my nostrils. The smell was horrible but yet somehow familiar. A group of people invited me to join the celebration. There were teen agers, young adults, older adults, men and women all having a hootin’, hollerin’, good time. They were dancing and singing, as some of them waved their guns in the air.
Various size holes could be seen where the birds crashed to the ground. The people seemed to be oblivious to the fact that there were bird carcasses scattered everywhere. Smiles were on their faces and tears trickled down their cheeks as they sang, “He has come. He has come. C H, our hero, has come. No more trouble, no more pain, our hero C H has come.”
As I slowly moved through the crowd, I noticed there was a podium set up in the middle of the crowd with a number of cameras and reporters gathering around it. The closer I got to the podium, the stronger the odor got. A strong, determined looking man got up to address the crowd.
“Ladies and gentlemen, as I (your friend C H) promised you, the men that troubled you have been taken care of. Continue to follow me and I will bring peace to this land.”