I hate to Power Level here, but I just have to. I'm a small business owner - just me, my foremen, and a whole tussel of gen-u-ine West African savages.
I know what you're going to say.
Growing Cotton in Wisconsin? Mad man!
But I never listened to the naysayers. For 15 years I made my living the only way an honest man can - driving bucks up and down them rows and rows of pure white gold.
I have to admit, this week I found out just how wrong I was. I thought the cold would be my biggest hurdle. Lo and behold, the other night a whole 5 of my finest workers got themselves devoured by some beast. I asked around and it turns out all the locals have been having the same problem of late. One of the oldtimers let me know of an Injun folktale. Apparently, when a man dies after abandoning his child, he is said to wander the plains forever, turning livestock into ground meat. The only way to ward off the evil spirit is to construct a small staircase in front of your slaves' cottage - it is said the spirit will get out of breath and return to
Hoolies, the native word for its demonic lair.
I don't know if I trust the word of a bunch of redskins, but I don't know how much longer I'll be in business if I have to keep buying more negros. I'll let you know if the thing returns, the staircase has been built, and I only pray I built it sturdy enough to hold the beast's weight.