Grimoire Diabolique

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Ol’ Lud knew he was givin’ ’em purpose by what he was doin’. This was God’s work according ta the books he’d read, and Lud believed it might fierce, he did. Yessiree, he thought. That’s gettin’ it. He gandered cockeyed down at Miss August outa Hustler. As purdy a blondie as he’d ever seen. Ooh, yeah. Awright, so sometimes it took awhiles. Sometimes he had trouble gettin’ the ol’ crane ta rise, but jimmy Christmas, at sixty-one, what fella wouldn’t, ya know?

What’d these gals be doin’ otherwise? Gettin’ diseases an’ all, smokin’ the drugs, gettin’ cornholed by fellas. ‘Stead Lud was helpin’ ’em ta be what The Man Upstairs intended ’em ta be, an’ givin’ ta those without what they’se wanted fierce. And acorse paid fer. Ya know?

Lud’s mitt needed ta jack hisself up a tad longer ’fore he’d be able to get it, so’s he stared on at Miss August, one mighty purdy splittail with that velvety lookin’ snatch on her an’ that dandy pair of ribmelons. Yessir!

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