- In a swamp on his porch, Mudd proceeds to tell a tale. Fading into his shack long ago he catches some z's. Awaken by his wife to tend to the lawn. Outside, Mudd prepares his tools. He destroys his lawn until a weed sprouts from the ground. Mudd tries to cut the weed down with no success. He dives at the weed and chews into its stem ripping it from the ground. Standing in victory he has accomplished his feat. Suddenly, his expression dissolves into utter defeat. Everything has sprouted and grown back. Back on the porch, he finishes his story; Mudd glances out to the overgrown lawn and gives a shudder. He completes this tall tale and slumpers back into the protection of his shack.—Anonymous
- Starting deep in a backwoods swamp past the dirt roads and long forgotten homesteads in some southern state, now it could be Alabama, Tennessee, Louisiana or even the great state of Mississippi rests a shack and in that shack lives a man of epic proportions which goes by the name Mudd Loggerhed. Mudd has built his own castle out of pine knobs, cypress tree roots and other wondrous woodly treasures he has found in his swamp. Mudd, a bearded scruffy haired swampbilly, tromps from behind an old knotty tree after relieving himself in natures bathroom. He cautiously makes his way around his porch climbing up the steps and sitting down on his knotty wood chair where he quinces his thirst with some homemade sweet tea which was resting on the window sill.
Mudd explains how his friends call him Turtle because of his last name and that he doesnt really like being called that. He then proceeds to tell one of the tallest tales ever told, a tale of battle, struggle, overwhelming odds and his ultimate enemy. Fading into the resting room of his shack some time ago Mudd catches some zs. Off in the distance the clanging of pots and pans and the frying of catfish no doubt wake Mudd from his slumber. He spouts off at whoever is making the noise and tries to get back to sleep. A large voluptuous woman, with greasy pan in hand, tromps out from the unseen kitchen. This is Merlean, Mudds wife; her face is shrouded by a mop of blonde matted hair. She raises the greasy pan at Mudd and proceeds to lay into him about how she slaves over a hot stove and all he does is rest. She stamps her barefoot in disgust as she continues to wave the pan at him. Mudd is truly frightened by his nagging wife and she quickly convinces him to get off his lazy butt and do what he hates the most, tend to his overgrown lawn.
Outside, Putting on his work boots and gloves Mudd prepares for a task he has not done in what looks like a year. His yard is overgrown with every kind of weed, plant, and grass that can grow in the swamp. On the side of his shack the vines and weeds have wrapped themselves around his lawn tools ensnaring them like prisoners. Mudd rips the vines and weeds away from his tools rescuing them from their vegetation restraints. Mudd equips himself with every lawn care tool he can strap to his body, like a soldier he ventures into his weed ridden front yard. Traipsing across his yard, the weeds and grass are waist level; he finally makes it to a decent clearing where he drops all of his tools in a loud clang. He prepares his tools in a ceremonial fashion; oiling his rotary mower he runs his finger across the blades to ensure that they are still sharp. Looking out into the weed infested lawn Mudd gives a brief warning and proceeds to attack the overgrown vegetation. Pushing the rotary mower through the waist high grass it takes all his might to cut through it but the grass doesnt give up that easily. Desperately fighting back it grows out from the earth wrapping around the blades of the mower binding it up. Mudd rips the mower free and tears the serpentine vegetation from the mower and decides to take the battle to the next stage. He looks at his pile of lawn tools the weed whacker stands out like King Arthurs sword. Like a berzerking soldier Mudd delivers an onslaught of fury against the weeds until a strange thick weed sprouts from the ground and taunts Mudd. Mudd dives at the thick weed, using weed shears he tries to cut the strange weed down with several chops but to no avail the strange weed is tougher than it looks. Mudd tosses the shears aside and grabs the weed at its base and attempts to rip it from the ground. He gives it a few good tugs, on the last tug he stripes all of the leaves from the weeds stem and falls back, thudding to the ground. Dazed Mudd regains his composure and brushes himself off. Mudd takes this fight to the next level turning to drastic measures, he dives at the weed like a mad dog and begins to chew and bite into its tough stem. Gnawing the strange weed until he rips it from its earthly home, standing tall in great victory Mudd has accomplished his feat. Reassured that he can win this battle he unleashes his last wave of destruction on his lawn. Chopping, Cutting, Mowing, Raking and Digging ultimately leveling everything in his path Mudd stands in victory covered in grass and weed carnage. He has won the greatest battle of his life. Suddenly, his victorious expression dissolves into utter defeat and confusion as the most disturbing sight he has ever seen is revealed. Everything has sprouted and grown back instantly, the grass is tall and weed ridden again, as if nothing ever happened. His lawn tools are wrapped in vines, as if taken prisoner by the weeds. There is victory but not for Mudd. Mudd, has been defeated, like a beat dog he lowers his head; he makes his way toward his shack. A wave moves through the mysterious vegetation.
Back on the porch, he completes this tall tale, explaining how somethings should be left alone. Mudd glances out at the overgrown lawn and gives a shudder he then slumpers back into the protection of his shack.
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