The Easter Dress Seduction
In other, more worldly and sinful places, women may seduce with sex and feminine wiles.
Here in Swampton County, S.C., they use down-home Southern cooking the way God intended.
Welcome to Swampton County, S.C., home of The Swampton Slinger newspaper, delivered to your home every week since 1876, except during Prohibition when we needed our delivery trucks for something else.
Weather Update
Spring has extreme mood swings in the South, and Pee Wee Palmer has filed for bankruptcy at the county courthouse. He’s not broke yet, but he will be when he pays his electric bill.
Pee Wee’s wife, who wants to divorce and leave him but there are no vacant spots in the trailer park, lives on the west end of the mobile home and is having hot flashes, so she has all the AC window units set on “turbo.”
Meanwhile, Pee Wee’s thin-blooded girlfriend, who lives on the east end of the trailer, has the furnace heater cranked wide open.
Today’s forecast: a cold, dry front from the west will meet a tropical depression from the east and wreck havoc as the two fronts collide and battle for the thermostat.
Local News
The COVID vaccine has finally arrived in Swampton (we are the last to get anything!), and Dr. Stew Welcher is holding a free vaccine clinic. But Momma Shakes has told everyone her family isn’t taking it and letting “The Guvment” alter their DNA or put a microchip inside their brains.
Don’t tell Momma Shakes, but her husband, Jimmy, has already slipped off to Dr. Stew’s and gotten vaccinated. While he was there, he finally got that abnormally large boil lanced off his left buttock cheek. That thing was so big it was causing him to sit lop-sided on the tractor, and every row in his garden was crooked as a result. He feels much better now, and his potatoes look much straighter, too.
Church News
Susie Sluice hadn’t spoken to her estranged husband, Sammy, since he furiously stomped out the door and left her with their four girls after she deceitfully signed him up to coach the youth league all-girls soccer team every weekend.
“I’ll do a lot of things for this family, but I’ll be damned if I am going to coach youth soccer!” Sammy screamed on his way out the door. “I love working with the kids but those soccer moms are out of control!”
But it was payday for Sammy, and she wanted to buy new Easter dresses for their four daughters, Sue, Suzanne, Suzette and Beverly, so Susie gave him a call.
“Absolutely not,” Sammy told her. “I don’t mind buying Easter baskets, candy, the stupid eggs to hide in the yard that no one finds until my lawnmower hits them, but I refuse to buy Easter dresses for four girls! And I’m still not over that soccer thing!”
“What kind of father deprives his children?” she pleaded. “Everyone will be at church next Sunday in their new dresses: the Randy girls, the Palmer girls, the Shakes boy.”
“You only go to church once a year, and that’s just to show off those stupid dresses!” he retorted. “And those girls are only going to wear the dresses once, and then outgrow them and dump them off at Goodwill!”
But a momma bear never gives up fighting for her babies.
“Please, just do it for the kids,” Susie said guilefully. “Think of their poor, broken hearts when they’re the only young ladies in church without a new dress! They will be so heartbroken and humiliated! Why don’t you come over tonight and let me make us a nice, romantic dinner and we can talk about it?”
For a month, Sammy had been living on potted meat and SPAM in his brother’s deer camp RV down by Foguson River. Hunger, like lust for the flesh, tends to cloud a man’s judgement and a romantic dinner sounded pretty nice. He cleaned up quickly, slapped on some Old Spice cologne, and in less than an hour his truck was beating a dust trail into the yard.
It won’t hurt to talk. I’ll just eat and leave, he thought. No dresses, and absolutely no all-girls soccer!
Susie had put the kids to bed, and she was wearing that sexy, thin, low-cut sundress that was responsible for at least three of their four daughters. When she opened the door, her tanned legs were the same color as the pan of golden-brown cornbread in her hands.
Be strong, Sammy, he told himself. You are not coaching soccer.
When he got closer, he noticed her breath was sweet, like good iced tea, and her hair radiated with the aromas of fried chicken and gravy.
He detected another strong, sultry fragrance in the air that made him tingle all over. “Is that what I think it is?” he asked. She shrugged shyly, being coy, giggling. “Baby, you know I like it when you put vinegar in the collard greens,” he said in a dry, husky voice.
Stay strong, Sammy, he thought. No Easter dresses. No soccer. We can get through this.
She lit some candles. As he drew near, he felt an aching warmth that he hadn’t felt in a long time, and his body trembled. He began to sweat. “Is that what I think it is?”
“Yep, your favorite,” she revealed the cast iron frying pan. “Chicken legs fried in lard.”
Sammy sat down and feasted on fried chicken, cornbread and collard greens, smothered with gravy made from bacon drippings, dabbled with hot sauce and washed down with sweet tea so cold it made his teeth hurt, with banana pudding for dessert. He moaned as he ate, sweat dripping from his face, eyes rolling in ecstasy.
After his every decadent desire was fulfilled, he passed out on the couch with his pants and belt unbuckled over his full stomach.
As he slept, Susie slowly, skillfully eased her husband’s wallet from his pants and slipped out his debit card. She logged into her Amazon Prime account. Four gorgeous, pastel-colored Easter dresses. Check. One adult large soccer coach uniform, including the whistle. Check.
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In other, more worldly and sinful places, women may seduce with sex and feminine wiles. Here in Swampton County, S.C., they use down-home Southern cooking the way God intended.
There’s never a dull day in Swampton. Come back and see us.