SUMMARY OF THE WEEKEND FROM HELL

By Enola Jones



And I thought Jim's camping trips were bad. At least on those I just get shot at or nearly drowned.

No, this time I figured I'd tag along with them on a nice, safe vacation. Sweet little island off the coast of Florida -- some fishing, some sun...not a problem at all, right?

Wrong.

What we found there was a place that I swear had come right out of Gone With The Wind. Time had obviously stopped for these people, and as far as they were concerned, it was the 1850s Deep South.

Which meant that I was in deep shit.

They say people see what they want to see. Oh man, was that ever the case here! These lunatics saw Jim as Lord of the Manor, Sandy as his wife, Dean as his cousin -- and me as Fetch-N-Carry.

They dressed like it was the 1950s, but their attitudes were decidedly antebellum. The look on the airport owner's face when Jim called me 'Sir' was priceless!

Trouble was, he took it on himself to 'put me in my place'. My back and wrists are still raw and if I move wrong, it feels like knives in my back.

I should'a let Jim snap his neck like he wanted to. Don't know why I stopped him, now...

Anyway, I'm gettin' off the point. We were there all of fifteen minutes when we realised Sandy and Dean had misread the charts and landed us not on Siesta Key, but on Magnolia Key -- which isn't really listed on any map.

These people don't like outsiders, especially outsiders like me. As long as we fit their expectations, they tolerated us.

Yeah, but when did we ever fit anybody's expectations?

After that bastard drugged and whipped me, all hell broke loose. It got crazier when Sandy shifted to Blair once it started turning physical. See, Blair's stronger physically--

And Iím getting off the point again. Sorry, it's the painkillers. Where was I?

Oh, yeah, it was getting physical. Well, it got tot he point where they started picking up stones to throw. I mean, they had guns. Knives. And they chose to stone us! Because we were 'perverse freaks of nature'.

I'm still not entirely sure how we made it back to the plane. I do know they'd tried to disable it, but somehow Dean and Jim got us in the air and Dean flew us home.

Then what happened?

What do you think? We called the Feds. That entire island is an insane asylum and God knows how many people they've trapped or killed.

Getting tired?

Yeah, some. I think I'll get some rest.

You do that. I'll see you tomorrow. Good night, Simon.

Night, Joel.

The End





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