State Fair

Couple of years ago, me and McDougal were at the State Fair down in Columbia. Now you know McDougal's a big man. He goes like 6'9", 320. We get to the weight guesser and the guy shouts, "Hey, Golliath. Let me guess your weight."

McDougal takes a deep breath and swig of PGA from that half-gallon flask he always carries. Then he holds up his Churchill and spews the liquor all over it, sending a huge fireball at the weight guesser. Lights the guy up like a Roman candle.

McDougal just sits there while this carnie burns to death, jumping around, screaming, and just going nuts. It takes about 14 minutes for him to cook all the way through.

When he falls dead, McDougal leans in, picks the guy up, and swallows him whole.

He then looks over at the bearded lady and says, "You feel like guessing my weight, too, you nasty yak?"

She looks at him with those cold, black yak eyes, and says, "Probably about 402 after eatin' the weight guesser."

Goddamn if she wasn't right.