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Semen Bartering Scandal

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It was to be the most heralded wedding south of the Assiniboine River and east of the Rocky Mountains in more than a century. All the ingredients were present for the spectacular event. There was the dashing and debonair groom in all his glory, the cute children done up to a tee marching down the aisle.

And the bride.

The bride beamed like a thousand tomorrows as she appeared to dance gracefully, proudly on silk clouds of frankincense and myrrh. Her dress was pure virgin white, as pure as she. Little chickadees held the train of her dress as she walked down the aisle to express her undying love to her surveyor in shining armour. This was a moment they had both dreamed of all their lives.

On this particular day, the groom was one Derek Allan Baley and the bride one Lindsay Dawn Gabrielle*. The location would be the Rubber Rose Ranch just East of Kola out by old Rudy Leroy's place.

Big Ed Hofer of the Hillside Colony Crips

The gala event began as story-book perfect as one can imagine. The girls were frantically touching up each others makeup, putting the final touches on their hair, and performing the usual tasks associated with the chaotic moments before the enthusiastic walk they take down the aisle to what they will later realize is a literal living hell somewhat similar to having a donkey kick you in the head hard enough to only paralyze you from the knees down while you watch the ravens peck away at your crotch and the b**** to whom you expressed your "undying loooove" only a few short years ago stands over you pouring rubbing alcohol on your open wound...(NOTE: All opinions expressed in this article are solely those of the writer and may or may not be shared by the Ho-Down).

The guys were playing football on the X-box. All seemed right with the world. Fast forward to the altar. Derek expressed his never-ending love to Lindsay and Lindsay expressed her close-enough-to-never-ending love to Derek. There were tears of happiness, sobs of joy, cries of ecstasy (whoops, I'm getting ahead of myself, those weren't until later in the evening), and generally an all around groovy, tear-jerkin' kinda moment.

The JP looked (rather sternly, as a matter of fact, as if to plead for someone to stop them) to the friends and family who had gathered to witness this beautiful moment in the young couple's lives and asked if there was anyone who objected to the union of these two bright and beautiful people. Yes, there were the usual old boy friends that both Deke and Lindsay had left behind that stood up drunkenly to object but as at previous gala events for both families, they were largely ignored and the jilted ex-lovers were left weeping in their seats. Everything was going exactly as the happy couple had meticulously planned... Not a single thing was going wrong... Yep, things were going just peachy keen...

[Editor's Aside: Did you catch that? Did everyone see that? That's what we in the legitimate journalism field like to call "foreshadowing". It's used all the time in quality publications like the New York Times, The Washington Post, The National Enquirer, and now right here on the Ho-Down. We would also like to point out that you will never find literary genius like this from those hacks at the Globe and Mail.]

"Yeah, that young whipper-snapper comes here a lot and touches me in places where no man oughta touch another man. Feels good after though"

There was a slow rumble that could be heard in the general vicinity of the wedding. It started in low, then it started to grow. Suddenly, a blast of hornage was heard coming down the lane to the Rubber Rose Ranch. It was a convoy C.W. McCall would have been proud of.

When they all came to a screeching halt there were 10 suburbans and 5 crew cabs. From them poured 78 "people", most of whom were bearded and all dressed in black home-made slacks and plaid shirts, the button up kind. To complete the ensemble, they adorned black suspenders so as to hold up their britches, ya know. It was the notorious Hutterite gang from the hood known as The Hillside Hutterite Colony. Big Edwin the leader of the Hillside Colony Crips, as they are known on the street, ran to the altar with a small entourage all of whom were wielding pitch forks and corn stalks and the like.

"You owe me 52 gallons of semen," Big Ed rather sternly said to Deke, "and I want it now or I will have your talli-wacker branded." Deke was stunned as was the crowd and, needless to say, his blushing bride. "I don't know what you are talking about," Deke replied, clearly stalling. Lindsay, confused, demanded an explanation.

Big Ed drew closer and said, " I'll give you an explanation, little missy. Your so-called man here has been trading bad semen to my colony. They no work. The ladies, they ain't having the babies. You semen is bad." Then Big Ed spilled the beans.

Deke was caught between a rock and a hard place (so to speak). Apparently, Deke had run into financial troubles paying for the wedding. He knew if he could only make it to the wedding and say "I do" that his life would be set, marrying into the flamboyant and disgustingly rich Gabrielle family. Deke had agreed to supply the Hillside Colony Crips with 100 gallons of quality semen to "get some new blood" into the colony. In exchange, the Crips would supply Deke with 50 lbs of potatoes, 35 lbs of cucumbers and 42 dozen eggs half of which was paid up front and the second half paid upon impregnation of the Crips' hos.

Soon however, Deke realized that he couldn't keep up the pace without severely damaging himself for his wedding night when he was to ravage his virgin bride. Lindsay had thought that Deke was turning into a wonderful human being as of late. Why he was insisting on doing as much as he could with the wedding and what with the vegetables he was bringing home she was so in love with him. He was even volunteering his time at the old folks home a lot lately. He would come home and tell her stories of the old men in the home that he had visited that day. She thought that it was wonderful that he had found people to fill the void of Grandpa figure that he so desperatel--

"I can't believe you did all this for me"

Suddenly, it dawned on her...

Her face turned as white as her virgin dress. "Oh. My. God," she yelled, "You have been milking those old guys at the home? What were you thinking?" Deke, realizing that the jig was up, started back-pedalling, "I did it all for you, Baby. I saw how happy I was making you with all this wedding stuff, I did what any man would do. I whacked off some geriatric men to pay for the wedding. Please forgive me. Do you know how hard it is to--- well, there's no need to go into details. Just look at my hands. They have callouses on them, for gosh sakes."

Lindsay looked at the pathetic mess Deke had become. Deke, for his part, flashed a look of such forlorn-ness that reminded Lindsay of a poor puppy dog being scolded after he has pissed in the house for the umpteenth time. (For the record, this reporter recognized the look as the one he used to use at the Patricia Hotel during his whoring days.) "Aw, I can't stay mad at you, ya big lug. Now come here and marry me."

"What about my semen?" Big Ed asked. As his family and friends had done numerous times before, they rallied around Deke (well the male ones anyway, and not literally "around Deke". Truth be told, many of them technically rallied around the bridesmaids) and paid off Deke's debt to the Crips. The Crips had their semen and Deke and Lindsay had a "wacky" wedding story that they could tell their future grandchildren. "Let's all go to the Dairy Queen for a Papsi and a Raval," said Big Ed, "and I'ma buying." All's well that ends well.

UPDATE: Virden man found in ditch with penis branded. Turns out most of Deke's male friends and family have had vasectomies and the Crips came back to square up.

*the Ho-Down wishes to reiterate its long-standing policy of altering the names of the persons herein referred to in this story to respect the privacy and reputations of the parties involved - Cleveland Steamer A.A.L. (attorney at large)

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