If a giant rotting vulture bird caught you in its bone cage belly and you ask him to stop at the Autozone...you might be a redneck.
If the worm that eats legs comes into your house hungry and you tell him to take it up with diabetes...you might be a redneck.
If your wife turns into a skinless, grunting viscera pile and instead of taking care of her you just feed her to raccoons...you might be a redneck.
If you witness the sublime terror of god's hand in the sky on the tenth day and all you can think is whether or not there's still gonna be lotto...you might be a redneck.
If your entire town is flattened by the speaking of the word of Metatron and you try to loot a feed store...you might be a redneck.
If you keep away the giant ants with the human faces by spraying Jeff Gordon cologne outside your doors...you might be a redneck.
If you see your neighbor grow a scorpion tail and you tell your wife to get the shotgun and she has to ask which one...you might be a redneck.
If the hateful storm swirling above sets fire to your mobile home and you run back inside to save a six-pack for sentimental reasons...you might be a redneck.
If all the religious texts are destroyed in an instant and you try to recreate the Bible from memory but you keep getting it mixed up with lines from Shrek 2...you might be a redneck.
If you keep from starving to death during the crossing of the wastes of America cuz your wife has a pack of hotdogs in her purse...you might be a redneck.
If the passing of all humanity's creation into ruin fills you with profound sadness cuz there won't be anymore Mountain Dew AM...you might be a redneck.
If your idea of twitter is trying to catch and eat the man made out of a swarm of birds...you might be a redneck.
If your yard dog gets ate by a giant ant with a human face and you just leave the chain on the ant...you might be a redneck.
If the devil challenges you to a contest of skill and you suggest see who can eat a 7-layer salad faster just to get the free 7-layer salad...you might be a redneck.
If the radioactive golem that towers over the landscape makes you puke blood and you try to remember back to what you did the last time you were getting over the blood pukes...you might be a redneck.
If you accidentally kill a Japanese man with a shovel because you thought he was an alien and you eat him even after you find his driver's license...you might be a redneck.
If you're pretty sure you didn't get raptured up because you had sex with your sister but you can't remember which one...you might be a redneck.
If you still try to go muddin' even though your truck is a screaming box of meat and giant teeth...you might be a redneck.
If the final all-consuming pyre rises into the sky and you are about to be swallowed up and you laugh because it looks like a penis...you might be a redneck.
|Zack is the author of the new short story collection Wages: Future Tales of a Hired Gun, a blood-soaked satire of private military contracting. He is also the author of the genre-hopping novel Liminal States, soon to be available as an audiobook. You can find out more about Zack's latest projects and special offers on his Facebook page.|
Sometimes I dream that I'm sitting in the back of the defunct Weinermobile as it careens driverless down the highway. At first I thought this was symbolic of the powerlessness I feel in life, but then I realized it's actually the Weinermobile's dream of being able to drive again.
Three years ago, when we were burying my uncle, Cleaver and some gross lady dog (Solstice???) showed up at the cemetery and starting going at it really loudly. It ruined everything and we had to have a "re-do" the next day and it cost a fortune. I've hated him ever since for that.
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