Tag: horror

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Ask A Texan: One Last Halloween


Advice For Non-Texas Folks That Need It, Whether They Know It Or Not

The Texan

I received an email from Mrs. Lillian Munster of Winston, Massachusetts. It seems her husband is determined to have one last Halloween, and she is fearing the worst.

Mrs. Munster: Mr. Texan, I read about your advice in a magazine I got at the Goodwill Store last week. My husband, Boris, is 92 years old and recently had an episode from being electrocuted while working in his shop ( he calls it his lab ). Still, it’s really just a shop in our garage, which is full of crazy stuff he has been building for decades: lots of glass tubes, electronic machines, tables with straps, and things like that. He was installing a large Ham Radio tower and lightning struck it, knocking him out from the jolt. Our oldest son, Eddie, just happened to drop by and found him on the garage floor mumbling nonsense. The doctor at the ER said the lightning jolt and the fall likely affected his brain. Now he is insisting that he go trick-or-treating because he thinks this will be his last Halloween, and it may well be. The jolt and the fall gave him a cut on his forehead, but Eddie used a staple gun to close the injury, and it did disfigure his face a bit, giving him a limp, and he now drags one leg behind him, and it’s hard for him to walk because he is 7 feet 6 inches tall. It also affected his speech, and he now only talks gibberish and is afraid of fire. He wants to go trick-or-treating with the kids in the neighborhood, but I’m afraid for his safety. We have folk in our rural area that own guns, pitchforks and torches, and they might get the wrong idea when he mumbles for some candy. He does look a bit scary. Do you have any suggestions on how I can prevent him from going through with this? I’m sending you a recent photo of him so you’ll see what I’m talking about.

My husband, Boris, after his morning coffee

The Texan: Mrs. Munster, I can see why you are concerned. He looks pretty scary, and if I answered the door and he was standing there with his plastic pumpkin candy holder mumbling gibberish, I might well grab my 12-gauge or a garden pitchfork too. Try to persuade him to visit a haunted house, or at least attend a Halloween carnival at the local school or church; he would likely be a big hit with the kids there. My late uncle Zevon developed a facial condition, and long brown hair grew and covered his entire face, which made him resemble the Wolf Man from the old 1930s movies. He became increasingly self-conscious and stopped going out in public; instead, he began to make a living by writing hit songs. I’m sending you a CD of Halloween songs, which includes the Monster Mash, the tune my uncle wrote. I’m also sending your husband a box of Cherry Bombs to keep him occupied in his lab. Keep in touch.

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Ask A Texan: Mrs. Gentry’s Dilemma: Boat Motors vs. False Teeth


Down Home Advice For Folks That Are Out Of Options

The Texan

I received a letter from Mrs. Gentry of Tallahatchie, Mississippi, stating that her husband, Catfish John, had taken the money she gave him for a set of new false teeth and spent it on a new boat motor. She’s as mad as a cottonmouth.

Mrs. Gentry: Mr. Texan, I’m surprised I’m having to ask a stranger for help. I saw your articles in the Farm and Ranch magazine, and you seem to know your groceries. My husband, Catfish John, is what the locals call him because he spends a lot of time on the Tallahatchie River running trotlines. He had three teeth left in his fat head, so I gave him some cash I had hidden away in a coffee can and told him to go to town and get some new teeth cause I was sick of looking at his toothless face. His hound dog, Little Bob Barker, has the same problem, so I told him to get the dog some choppers, too. He comes with what I thought was new teeth. I looked at him and said, “Wait a darn minute here, Catfish, those don’t look like real teeth; they’re too big and are all the same size. ” Well, he admitted that he needed a new boat motor, so he bought a couple of boxes of Chiclets, those lovely little white candies, and super glued them into the holes where his teeth used to be: he did the same for his hound dog. They look like a couple of smiling great white sharks, and I’m out all the hidey money I was saving for our daughter’s upcoming wedding to Billy Joe MacAllister. She’s not around much these days cause Catfish sees her and the boyfriend throwing stuff off the bridge, which worries me; I’m missing a bunch of laying hens and some piglets. I’m as mad as a pissed-off cottonmouth and ready to send him to live with his baby brother, Perch. Any ideas on fixing this mess? I sent you a picture of him and the hound.

The Texan: Wee Doggies, now that’s a problem. Southern men take their fishing real seriously, and a good boat motor is essential. My grandpappy had the same problem, so Granny fed him soft biscuits and white gravy and mashed up his meat, and he got along just fine. Teeth are expensive these days, so he was just trying to save money. I love those little Chiclets candies; they are a true American institution. I wouldn’t worry too much if one falls out, he can replace it, they’re really cheap. As far as the wedding, have your daughter go to the justice of the peace. At least Catfish will always have nice-smelling breath, and if you’re at a social gathering and you need a breath mint, just jerk out one of his teeth. Keep in touch, and I’m sending him a big box of assorted-colored Chiclets so he can change his teeth to suit the holiday festivities. Let me know what your daughter was throwing off that bridge.