Sage Sweetwater has a brand new box of Matches!

Excerpt
The Pulpit That Was Going to Hell!


Madam Blaze Starr proceeded to follow the conceptual blueprint of The Mother Earth News, the original guide to living wisely. “If you build it, they will come.” Teddy Roosevelt said it over a hundred years ago. The monks at Abbotsbury followed that advice in the early Middle Ages. The one thousand swans the monks found when they settled at the head of The Fleet in Dorset now return to the swannery in Abbotsbury year after year to nest and breed. The monks cut the reeds and laid them aside for the swans to build their messy nests.

Reference of trees and wood fill the bible from beginning to end, building on scriptures which allude to trees, woods, and woodworking.

After the God Revolution, Madam Blaze Starr built the pulpit from cedar. A natural preservative in cedar provides resistance to decay and deterioration, a necessary material in modern-day churches for restoration. Madam ordered in cedar newel posts and decorative finials from The Cinder Whit Company to make the pulpit one-of-a-kind. She followed the conceptual blueprint design on the pages of The Mother Earth News. Using a handsaw, Madam cut the lumber to exact dimensions, quartersawn, and measured with a Mason of vertical grain, the whiskey stored in the mill-direct wide pine bin. The pulpit that was going to Hell!

Genesis 6:14 translated, Noah made his arc from gopherwood. Another word used in place of gopherwood is cedar.

Madam Blaze Starr sealed the joints of the exterior and interior shelves of the pulpit with cedar pitch, heating resin over the fire. Kaphar is the Hebrew word for cover over with pitch, and translated in Leviticus 16:6, to make atonement, similar to the effect that pitch could have on the surface of the material it covers. It would have a covering or purging effect, which is what atonement means in a spiritual sense. Since atonement must take place not only in the outward actions of a person, but also in the heart, the analogy would be complete with the cedar pulpit having an internal coating of pitch. Sealed, gold-leafed and varnished, Madam Blaze Starr is born again—into the profession.

“Carpenter, you have spilled the whiskey,” Sapphire said. Her girls helped her carry the pulpit into her log wall bedroom to store away from sin under Madam’s four-poster bed, the bedposts turned from The Cinder Whit Company. Lightning arrestors—let it rain!

Madam Blaze Starr’s Tarot Veil Ranch was packed tonight. The Parlor Room was with just with standing room. The men drank fine whiskey from Madam’s bar while she brought the girls into the adjoining viewing room for selection. Testosterone was rich-smelling and cocky, so thick in the air you could slice it with a bull’s nut cutter.

“Madam, can I have a word with you in private?” Mayor Tickbuck asked.

“Why Mayor Tickbuck, you certainly surprise me with your company, what do I owe this honor?” Madam asked. Madam’s cleavage uplifted the town government, and that wasn’t all! The Clergy was in the lost and found box at the Tarot Veil; preacher’s glove. “Something’s going to burn, Mayor—I can smell it in the air.” Paranormal reflex and telepathic striking?

“Let’s step into your office where it’s a little more faint of Old Spice—this manly scent is overpowering me, if you know what I mean,” Mayor Tickbuck said.

“Follow me, Mayor Tickbuck, we don’t roll up the red carpet here to good conversation.” Wasn’t that just like the goddamned government! Madam Blaze Starr knows this—never miss a good chance to shut up. She knows good judgment comes from experience, and a lot of that comes from bad judgment. Timing has a lot to do with the outcome of a raindance. “What’s on your mind, Mayor?”

“Well, Madam, I thought maybe we could work out a little something on your tax bill—let’s just say life is simpler when you plough around the stump,” Mayor Tickbuck said.

Cursing under her breath, Madam Blaze Starr said “Fucking bribe Gawd, be thankful we’re not getting all the government we’re paying for!" She casually set up the bait, dropped it “accidentally”, and bent over to pick up Chance LaRue’s match on the red carpet. Mayor Tickbuck took the bait and grabbed her from behind and pushed his suit-pant hard cock into Madam’s luscious rear end. Thinking it under her breath, go ahead, dry hump me and walk out of here with a crusty white tell-tell ejaculate stain on your pants so your wife can see, asshole! You never know which way the pickle is going to squirt! Don’t worry about bitin’ off more than you can chew, your mouth is bigger than your cock.

“Hammers of Hell!” the men shouted from the parlor room inside the Tarot Veil. Madam Blaze Starr was saved by the bell! Madam was just waiting to smash his political career. Mayor Tickbuck ejaculated from the dry humping just in time. The origin of “Hammers of Hell” traces back to the early 1900s, relating to the ringing of bells done with a hammer or clapper. The town church was on fire, burning sin and corruption. The men scrambled into their transportation, Mayor Tickbuck in his city truck, and headed back into town.

Madam Blaze Starr looked into the night sky, the orange flames leaping from the church steeple. “Burn down the cornfield!” she yelled. “Burn down the damned cornfield!” She went to her bedroom, fell to her knees, and pulled the pulpit that was going to Hell out from under her four-poster Cinder Whit bed. She placed it upright. “Lightning arrestors—let it rain!”

The ecclesiastical incestual carnage had finally met Hell at the flaming altar of judgment day! And where was Chance LaRue’s match!

Unstruck, Chance LaRue's red sulfur tip tightly clenched in the hand of the lovely Madam Blaze Starr at the Tarot Veil. And where was Chance LaRue? Sitting at Dominga Rio’s alibi blackjack table at The Midnight Rose thinking peyote and drinking whiskey!