My new occupation is also my destiny — to become a gentleman southerner of extreme qualities. This summer, amidst the stifling heat and the hazy pollen produced by the magnolia trees of the Deep South, Le Fly shall step into these once occupied territories and call them his own. Like the great General Tecumseh Sherman, I shall conquer the south and teach my neighbors to behave nicely, otherwise feel the backend of my sword — and I will also burn down their homes and businesses.
Ever since young, I was destined to be a Southern Man — white suite, handlebar mustache, an easy demeanor, and a sweet accent — both thick and delicious like a jar of black strapped molasses tipped over into a plate filled with corned bread.
Once I establish my plantation and take my position amongst southern society, I will treat all yankees as northern aggressors, behave unkind to them for destroying the crops of my forefathers, and for soiling the south with their very liberal digressions. Amidst the confusion and mystery of my sudden existence upon those lands, Le Fly will call himself “Colonel Fly of the 33rd Brigade” and host grandiose parties, serving the finest collard greens, fried chicken, and copious amount of lemonade — south of the Mason-Dixon. I shall sit on my porch, rocking back and forth, contemplating the sins and the plight of my forefathers — destroyed by great and monstrous armies who set fire to churches and schools. As I smoke my pipe and tip my hat to my wonderful neighbors, I will thank the lord for the gifts bestowed upon me and pray that I have the strength to defeat my new enemies — hordes of northern families relocating and occupying the south — expressly degrading a once proud land — steeped in rich and saccharine traditions.
I will tell these people: “Even though you walk upon these lands — you shall never be accepted, no different than a mosquito is accepted at a swimming hole, or a fly at a cookout.”
I bid thee a mighty fine weekend.
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