by Julius Rupert, former potential neighbor or something like that

What are you people, a bunch of hicks? Were you all dropped on your heads as children? What the hell is wrong with all of you?

First, let me introduce myself, not that I think any of you have the brainpower to remember my name. I'm Julius Rupert. I pulled into Tinbox Acres to check out a mobile home that I'd heard was up for sale.

I parked my car outside of a mobile that had a big red FOR SALE sign on it. I got out of my car and started checking the mobile for any repairs that would be necessary before I'd be able to move into it. That's when I got attacked.

I don't remember too much of what happened much after that, but apparently I got the shit beat out of me and my car got wrecked. All I know for sure is I spent the same amount of time in the hospital that my car spent at the mechanic's -- eight days.

I do remember looking into the mobile's windows. I observed that there weren't any holes in the floor, and there was only a few punched in the walls. The place didn't look half bad. I was just getting ready to find the manager and ask about buying the trailer.

That's when some sicko sneaked up behind me and bludgeoned me with a baseball bat for no reason, and with no warning.

It was all I could do to get up off the ground and stagger to my car. I had to get to a hospital fast. I could hardly see through all the blood and pain. I jumped in my car and started it, put it in gear, and stood on the gas.

That's when I hit that nightmare speedbump from Hell. The impact was so great, it gave me whiplash. Not only that, but it tore the muffler right out from underneath my car. That muffler didn't fall off right away. It hung there like a car intestine hanging out, dragging the ground for a mile and a half before it finally fell off.

I'd have stopped the car, but I had to get to the hospital before I started blacking out from the head wound I'd received courtesy of that psycho running loose in your trailer park.

Driving myself to the hospital with a major bleeding head wound is no picnic. I had blood and sweat running into my eyes. I couldn't see for shit. To add insult to injury, I got whiplash from that fucking speedbump.  I got treated to two loud noises all the way to the hospital: the squeeeeeeeeeeal of dangling, scraping car parts, and the bah-bah-bah-bah-bah racket of a shot muffler.

At least the squealing stopped when the muffler fell off, thank God.

The only reason I'm writing this guest commentary in the first place is because even though you're all a bunch of backwards-ass morons, you need to know that there is a madman on the loose in Tinbox Acres. He must be stopped before he can ambush and bludgeon anyone else.

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