A Letter to Saddam
Dear Saddam,
Fo' a long time now, I been hearin' 'bout y'all. Y'all been
lyin' and scornin' women like y'all never had no mammy nor granny
t' teach y'all the right way o' respect for them as brings life
into the world. Treatin' women, the other half of your own race,
like they's worse 'n slaves, er su'thin' sich. Y'all're pretty
damn mean t' 'bout all folks, I hear that too. Convincin' y'own
people t' believe the lies y'all put out 'bout America bein'
the seat o' intolerance for y'all's religion. Why, that there's
a damn lie, if there ever was one!
Settin' up t' get little kids t' fight for y'all in the name
o' a God that weren't never nowhere nigh as mean as y'all'd
want 'Im t' be. They ain't old enough t'know what's right, an'
y'all never let 'em learn nothin' but what y'all wanted 'em
to hear.
It jest plain ain't right, and y'all know it! Somebody shoulda
took a keen li'l willer switch t' your butt a long time ago.
It'd have saved a lot o' the greif t' come soon now, y'know.
Dang it, somethin's gotta be done. Dis'greements ought just
plain be worked out by decent folks, in a decent way, not with
that there nerve gas an' poisons, diseases that y'all can't
control after y'let 'em loose. Only a fool, a fearful fool at
that, 'd wanna go out an' fool with sich o' truck o' nasties.
So this here's y' notice. I'm a loadin' m' shotgun, cleanin'
m'rifle. I ain't mebbe the smartest 'r best eddicated 'mong
folks in this here world, but I ain't no fearful fool, either.
Y'all come here, makin' havoc fer us like some rabid dog let
loose in the barnyard, an' I'll show y'all how we 'uns ride
fools outta town on a rail, painted in tar an' stuck with feathers
all o'er, like some ol' hen. Then we can do t' you what you
planned for th' rest o' the world, an' make like your ass's
a target. Don' you worry none. It'll be a clean kill... I ain't
missed a target th' size o' a man since I's 'bout six years
old. An' honey, that was a long, long time ago. It ain't smart
t' waste shot and powder; gotta make them shots count!
Trouble is, y'all want the world t' think o' you as a man t'
be reckoned with. Alrighty, young 'un, if that's th' way y'want
it, I'll make sure t' reckon wind an' angle a-right when I let
loose m' dogs. Powder's gonna be dry, all done right. I reckon
that'll be like usually, but then, y'all did want us t' reckon,
right?
That'll do it. Y'all go on an' make your silly lies an' threats,
an' find out how wrong it is to piss off an American hillbilly.
Y'all done know you've pissed off one too many when y'piss off
one. I reckon y'all'll know that soon, though.
The kids've got the front, pore li'l fellers, but I'm settin'
here on th' porch a-rockin' in m' chair, waitin'. Me an' m'neighbors've
got the homeland helt tight, an' we'll do that we gotta, hard
as that may be. We seen the hard times; won't be neither first
nor last fer us.
Lock an' load, Saddam, as th' kids say these days. Th' least
body we got here in the United States o' America is worth ten
thousand o' you. An' Saddam? After y'all get done lockin' and
loadin' like I already done, y'all kiss y' ass g'bye. Nobody
else is gonna. Well, 'cept mebbe y'momma 'r some other foolish
young female relative who believes yer trash. I'd think 'bout
that, was I you.
The sun's goin' down, an' I gotta go skin out this here coyote
I jest shot 'bout 200 yards out, down by the crick, so I'll
close fer now. Y'all take care now, y'hear? Better we should
set down to a Sunday dinner together an' talk, drinkin' coffee
strong enough that y' toss in a' ol' hoss-shoe an' never see
it again... good coffee!.... than that we should make war ag'in
one 'nuther. It bears thought, but y' ain't got much time. I
never could abide a damn coyote.
Sincerely,
Gran'ma American
Anytown, USA
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