If the South Rises Again it'll Be Over My Dead Body
by
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BEFORE YOU BEGIN THIS NO-HOLDS-BARRED EXPOSE --- LET'S GET A FEW DEFINITIONS CLEAR FIRST. A SOUTHERNER -- A RESIDENT OF ONE OF THE STATES BELOW THE MASON-DIXON LINE. HIS, OR HER, GIVEN NAME HAS TO BE AN INITIAL. MOST SOUTHERNERS HAVE MORE TATTOOS THAN TEETH. THEY ALL LOOK LIKE MEMBERS OF THE BANJO PLAYING FAMILY FROM 'DELIVERANCE.' A YANKEE -- EVERYONE ELSE.
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About the Book
There was only one way this book could be written. I had to go undercover and pose as a redneck.
At any moment my cover could have been blown placing my life in danger. At the very least, my Bloomingdales credit card could have been confiscated and my complete collection of Barry Manilow CDs destroyed.
In spite of these risks, I persevered. It was only after I made my way back to Yankee lines that I was able to write this book. I still suffer from episodes of "Post-Traumatic-Stress Syndrome" in which I am chased by a giant killer crawfish. Hopefully, therapy, medication and a liberal amount of Jack Daniel's will erase that demon from my subconscious.
About the Author
Mr. Kane is now living under the federal witness protection service. He has had to change his appearance for his own protection. He went to the same plastic surgeon that Sammy "The Bull" Gravano did. Unfortunately, the doctor slipped up and made him look exactly like Sammy "The Bull." Consequently, for his own protection, Mr. Kane cannot ever eat in an Italian resturant.
Rumor has it that Kane now lives in an unnamed northern city where he pursues his career as a top linoleum salesman.