[littlemanpoet]

spits Too bad about the lass. She'd a been a good plow. frowns Now don't get yer snoots all up in a huff. She'd a turned me down anyways. spits Yeah, I know I stink, you all has told me afore. Tough snot. An' as fer thet plan of guy, it was fart in the head, plain an' simple.

Now I know you alls thinks I'm about as suspicious as the next lout, an' you'll probly have me lynched by the end o' the day anyhow, but I'll speak my piece whether ya likes it or not. spits Oh, an' there ain't no way I'm writin' those five stoopid letter to refer to guy. Never liked it. 's as good as tryin' ta swear with a clothespin on yer tongue. turns around, unbuttons his britches and takes leak, then buttons 'em up and turns back around. Frowns

Now don' go lookin' at me like that. I paid my respects ta decency by turnin' around. Ya didn't have ta stare. Anyways, you oughta use my plan. Here it is. I know you'll think it sucks like a blanged catfish moored ta the bottom o' the stream, but here goes.

Seer, whoever you is, you keep yer trap shut about who you is. Don't let nobody know who you is until you has at least one werewolf found out. Better yet, two werewolves. scratches armpit Yeah, I know ya might get unlucky an' stiggered by some werewolf, but it's our best shot. So stay shut up, whoever you is.

An' you villagers what ain't got no gift, put yerself forward ta be lynched. That keeps the gifted free. Yeah, I know there's been wind of this hyere plan here an' there an' it's been argued into the dirt, but it's a good one and I bet it works. scratches crotch and spits 'An if anyone o' yous thinks ta ask me why I don' put myself forward, take a bleedin' guess. Farts for brains. spits and waits, scratching self liberally to the common disgust of all