🌽 In a forgotten corner of southern Minnesota, nestled between cornfields and half-rotten barns, one man-Miller Vance Ketchum-waits for a sign. Not just any sign but the celestial alignment he's been anticipating for 60 years. 🌌 A grain mill opera...
It starts in the place Miller knew best-his grain mill. The first poor bastard to cross his path was a kid from the local high school, a wannabe country boy named Jared, who came to the mill to pick up feed for his family's cattle.
Miller grabbed the closest weapon-a pitchfork, rusty and stained with decades of use-and impaled Jared right through the stomach. He twisted the pitchfork like a chef stirring a pot, watching in amusement as the kid's intestines wound up the prongs like spaghetti.
"You ever feel like feedin' the cows, Jared? Well, now they can feed on you," Miller laughed, his voice thick with phlegm.
With one last yank, Jared's guts spilled onto the floor, staining the grain with crimson. Miller licked the blood off his fingers, then grabbed a scythe from the wall. "Time to harvest some souls."
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Scene 2: A Small Town Dinner
Next, Miller decided to stretch his legs, heading toward a nearby dinner that sat on a highway stretch no one ever used unless they were lost or trying to leave Minnesota. Inside, a couple of truckers were scarfing down greasy food.
Miller walked in, completely naked, his flabby, wrinkled skin hanging off him like a deflated balloon. His hands clutched two chainsaws, one in each hand.
"Y'all like your eggs scrambled or sunny-side up?" Miller roared before firing up both chainsaws. The first trucker didn't even have a second to react before Miller took his head clean off, sending blood and bone fragments splattering against the glass counter.
The second trucker threw his hands up in surrender, but Miller wasn't one for mercy. He flipped the chainsaw sideways and sliced the man in half, his body parting like an overripe watermelon. Miller watched the two halves slide off the barstool, chuckling to himself.
"The devil's hungry tonight, boys!" Miller cackled, blood spraying as he twirled around the chainsaws like they were nunchucks.
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Scene 3: The Lake
Miller wandered to Lake Okabena, a popular spot for fishermen and local teens trying to avoid the prying eyes of their parents. He arrived just in time to find a couple skinny dipping, frolicking in the moonlit water. They didn't see him at first-too busy with each other.
