Written by b kenneth mcgee
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Topics: Drugs, Religion

Wednesday, 3 August 2011

Reverend T. J. McCorkle of Louisburg, NC, was released today from his thirty-day house arrest for selling crystal meth to a Cub Scout troop. There were only two reporters at the rectory as he emerged -- one from the local Franklin Times and the other from the Raleigh News & Observer. The reporter from the local paper greeted McCorkle warmly, "Hi cousin T. J. You happy this long ordeal is over?" McCorkle replied, "Hi cousin Ezra, ain't been too bad, staying busy in the basement kitchen, lf you catch my drift."

The young reporter from the Raleigh N & O, new to the area and just out of journalism school in New York, seemed eager to question McCorkle for an in-depth story. Neither McCorkle nor the elderly reporter from the Franklin Times was pleased. The interview went as follows:

Reporter: "Reverend, why do you think you only received a thirty day in-house sentence for this rather serious crime?"

McCorkle: "Serious? Did you say serious? Ain't so serious around these parts young fella! The judge, cousin D. R. knows what we do here--- his wife is the head of our Women's Auxiliary for God's sake, Mr. Fancy Pants Columbia School of Journalism wet behind the ears Yankee!" McCorkle and the reporter from the Franklin Times winked at each other and chuckled. The Raleigh N & O reporter continued:

"Reverend, have you been doing this for a long time? You know, cooking Meth?"

McCorkle: "Well young fella, you don't seem to know much about us folks here. Use to be, you asked folks over to cook up a batch, it meant cook up some collards or turnip greens, maybe throw in a hog jowl, have a few beers, and have sex with a farm animal. Nowadays you cook up some Crystal M, have a few beers, and maybe have sex with a farm animal. Some things change, some things never do, young fella. Now excuse me, expecting that new Tea Party Congresswoman Ms. Ellmers over to wish me well, you know maybe pick up a campaign contribution. Renee ain't no stranger here, comes every year for our annual March Meth-ness gala."

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The story above is a satire or parody. It is entirely fictitious.

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