REDNECK PERSPECTIVE: Flannel Feature: Superman vs. Batman

By on March 29, 2016

When true evil lurks, Hog Island superheroes unite.

JACKSON HOLE, WY – “Superman vs. Batman” is a fictionalized account of a superhero spat. Hog Island, on the other hand, had a real superhero conflict last week. Lill, called SuperLill by the media, has the power to spit tobacco juice 50 feet into a one-inch bull’s-eye. Even though, as a general rule, she dips Copenhagen and swallows the juice, when evil makes its appearance she changes to Day’s Work plug tobacco, gaining more pound-for-pound hocking ability.

While I don’t seek the public eye, I have an alternate life; not only am I a mild-mannered columnist as well as a female fantasy, I also possess super hero traits. Once I foiled a band of notorious thieves as they were absconding with a load of trailer skirting. As they were loading the last of the skirting into their pickup truck, I released a massive amount of toxic intestinal gas. The scoundrels collapsed, begging for the police to haul them to the safety of a jail cell. The papers have taken to calling me “Gasman.”

Recently, I have become concerned over Lill’s popularity with the Hog Island bourgeoisie. Such power in one person’s hands is dangerous. Despite my dislike of fighting a fellow good guy, I had no choice.

After a massive meal of beer, bacon and beans, I crashed into Lill’s trailer and released my gas. Lill, a true super hero, did a double back flip with a twist while releasing a 60-mph stream of spittle at me. I wanted to do a double backflip with a twist to avoid the spit, because, let’s face it, double backflips with a twist are what super heroes do when they fight. However, I’m more of a beer belly super hero than the backflip type. I just ducked.

We circled around her flat screen TV, stopping to watch a few minutes of NASCAR before continuing our battle. As SuperLill circled by the window she glanced out and yelled, “Wait, Gasman! A greater evil lurks outside.”

We ran out the door and found a Realtor in a new Lexus LX 570.

The owner of the shiny new car spoke up. “We’re thinking about forming a limited partnership and turning the trailer park into subsidized affordable housing units,” he said.

“They’re already affordable housing units,” Lill countered.

“No, no,” the realtor replied. “I mean subsidized affordable housing. We can install half as many units for twice as much money, then rent them for double what they are going for now.”

Half as many units for twice as much money and double the rent? I scratched my head. Too much in-depth calculation for me. I would need to get NaG economic columnist Jonathan Schechter to draw up some pie charts.

SuperLill was having none of his fancy numbers.

“Be gone, thy knave!” She spit tobacco juice in his eye. Not to be outdone, I released a massive, justice-filled flatulent cloud. The realtor crawled back to his Lexus and sped away.

I turned to Lill. “God, country, and justice,” she said, grasping my hand.

“Beans, biscuits and bacon,” I replied. PJH

About Clyde Thornhill

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