Residents of 'Cognito', Texas respond in favor of S Bond Herndon's new Tell-All Novel "A Week in Agony...Texas"

Excerpt from this week's "COGNITO EXPOSED' newsletter [circulation 14] , Oleandra Onyx-Bankhead-Overcash reporting...

The Cuts of Agony, near Jesus' hide-out 

Once again, the criminal elements of our sister town have become malignant, a cancer that has torn the very heart out of my own home town... Agony.


We all (all sixteen of us) have ties to our folks over there, and we all left for pretty much the same reason: lack of understanding and the insanity that permeates the area, affecting all of its residents; and, as we can all attest, making them all... Just a little bit... mad, at times.


This close to "The Big Nothing" is no place to lose one's sanity.

Ladies, we must unite, and help put a stop to the current lunacy our foolish cousins have embarked upon: 

Sorry, y'all, we couldn't find a picture of ALL the Mulligans
since they seldom assemble as one...until now...

"We gonna go find that Writer-Feller, and his Injun wife, and make 'em take it back..." Sisters, is that not cousin Flat-Top Mulligan, to a Tee?  

More of the nefariousness Mulligans

Now, we all met and spoke with Mr. Herndon, and his wonderful wife, who is not really a Native American. Her folks were from way off, up in Michigan.  That we all have come to know well.  In my own humble opinion, I think Feathermaye is really the driving force behind her wordsmith Husband.  I kept a close, strong eye on her when they were here, in Cognito.  That girl has her husband's back, and the man just dotes on her... Made more than one of us remember the days when men--sorry, sisters, I digress.

Dwayne Dobbs, current Mayor of
Agony

As for the so-called newspaper, over there; they might as well just be an old ad-rag, for all the ink they waste.  Cousin Jackson Tuck is not much of a writer (or an editor, for goodness sake). And, least I forget to cast more blame over this embarrassing, potentially dangerous situation with Mr. & Mrs. Herndon, the current mayor of Agony (It's Dwayne Dobbs turn now...) remains as powerless, as he is un-influential.  


So, anyhow, y'all, as our little incorporated spot of land has been      chartered, and as the editor and chief of this newsletter, and with full agreement from our current Mayor, Post Master, and Marshall Miss Nana Tuck, I hereby state, emphatically, that Mr. Herndon and his wife are fine people, and our crazy cousins are but a load of good-for-nothing, ne'er-do-wells.  


That's as lady-like as I can say it. Besides, I'm the one, at the advise of my wonderful Aunts, that told Mr. Herndon and Feathermaye to just go own and write the story.  I was right dab in the middle of it, after all, even if it was over forty years ago.  

I was there when they hung Jesus!  I was sitting right up in the Rodeo stands when he came back to us, three days later.  After that...things were different. I looked at  the town of Agony with new eyes, as the shingles of the particular brand of insanity that will forever, in my humble opinion, ruin the hopes of everybody there; bless their poor souls.


I remain your humble reporter/editor, Oleandra Onyx-Bankhead-Overcash.  


Blogger's Note: I should point out that Oleandra has remained a devoted friend to Yours Truly and Feathermaye.  She sends text messages, every time the Mulligans get up to something.  For now, we know those boys--and I don't mean to downplay them, at all, they are a nasty bunch of hombres--are talking a lot of stuff about finding out where THE MOUNTAIN is, but...none of them know how to get on line!  Ha!  Besides, I've got fine protection around Feathermaye, Starbuck the glittery dog of wonder, and Yours Truely.  If there's gun-play, I'll be the guy with extras up on the roof-tops, with beads drawn on the Mulligan's scabby heads.   


Excuse me for now, folks, I hear gun fire in the distance...(live shoot-outs here every hour!)  Y'all c'mon and get here!


More to come...


S


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