Uh, do we not bleed&;#063;

Do We Not Bleed? By J.B. Pravda

The Tri-State Overall Best Darn Hollerin Contest was, this year, being
held at the North Country Lodge &; Trail Inn in the Seattle suburb
of Strangville, a hamlet of only several hundred; well, the crowd for
the finals competition had swelled the tourist population to over
10,000, a record for this event; the townspeople and visitors alike
were astounded at the range and volume of this years finalists: Old Ed
Grinch, last year's champ, Farley Granger from Tennessee, and a virtual
unknown in 'hollerin' circles, a young, ugly fella name of 'Jeremiah
Johnson', apparently his stage name, and he sure looked like some sort
of mountain man, all of 7 foot and then some. As the last holler was to
begin----an intricate yodel-like, shrill oscillating sound----'Johnson'
became visibly excited by the other callers, knocking one unconscious,
mating with the other and, after grabbing the first prize trophy as
default winner, proceeded to holler loud and clear: "Name's Big Foot
and I am damned tired of being stalked, made fun of and otherwise
cheapened by your tabloid press!" With that, he temporarily deafened
the entire village with his blood-curdling cry-----which, sadly, would
have been the winner, in any event, according to the judges------ and
strode off into the woods with a surprisingly willing Farley Granger,
no stranger to inbreeding, it was rumored.