THE DAY DE WAYNE LEFT THE ORDER.

I hereby call to order this meeting of the Ancient and Exalted Order of the Klu Kux Crayon. I mean the Cool Krux Can. The Kull Kax Croon. The Crew Kux Clam. Oh, for Pete’s sake, y’all, I cain’t even say the stupid name. Yeah, it’s stupid. Y’all are pathetic. Look at you. I joined the Crayon—I mean—aw, stuff it—I joined cause they said this was the way to power and influence. Y’all ain’t got no more power than a triple-A battery! Y’all are more pathetic than I am! Y’all even made me your Grand Exalted Klosprey or Klaardvark or whatever, and I work at Burger King. We ain’t never had a single man in public office in the whole dang county. Heck, we ain’t had no one on the ballot since Eustace ran for registrar of deeds, and he lost to that Catholic fella from Coosawhatchie. We just sit around in Herb’s basement drinkin’ Bud Light and usin’ up good bedsheets that Mrs. Deaver has to wash the beer stains out of every week cause no one wants to spend the fifty bucks for a regular white robe. If y’all want power and influence, join the quiltin’ club. Black lives matter, y’all. Get a life.