Monday morning, 9am. It's pouring outside

Monday morning, 9am. It's pouring outside and I'm struggling to summon up enough motivation to get out of bed.

I looked out the window and then I saw it. I could not believe it! It was a

...Oh my...I can't even describe it. I've never seen anything like it. It's...Well, it's...I have to look away! But I can't!! It...It's coming this way!! Our Father, who art in hea

ven, hollowed out as thy brain --" "Prayin' won't help you now," Grandpa cut in. "You should've listened to your Elders." Maybe so. The brilliant ball of light hurled toward us

. Suddenly I remembered what my elders said so long ago. I had sat on Grandpa's lap as he conveyed his wisdom: "Duck!" I hit the dirt as the fireball sailed over me. Grandpa smiled

somewhere up there, or perhaps in his grave. He^'d ducked once when he should have goosed. A traumatic accident I prefer not to elaborate. The fireball crashed into Grandma's still

and the resulting explosion generated a crater 30 meters in diameter. Found Grandma's corncob pipe, but not a speck of her DNA. Our historic family moonshining operation was kaput.

But not all was lost. My pelvic girdle was still intact, a body part many people take for granted. Without it our organs would flop around unsupported. Strong hillbillies make

I could hear their joints clicking loudly. "Stop! That noise is driving me nuts!" "Sounds like a short drive." That was the last straw. I left the hipsters and their silly walks.