HOW A MAN CAN DIE...TWICE!

I will prove to you how a handsome man dressed in
shorts could die twice!

     Yes, it is true! A handsome man who prays that he would die while wearing shorts and showing off his delicious-looking thighs, calves and kneebacks can indeed die twice. I had seen it happen several times in my forty-seven years...and wish that it would happen to me, especially if I am dressed in the outfit I am wearing in the picture above. My beautifully tanned legmeat would tempt the teeth and tongues of men and boys before, during and after my second death...if and when it should happen. Let me tell you about one occurrence which I had been happily fortunate to witness.

     It was Tuesday, July 4, 2000. The Knee Lovers of America, a special group for men and teenage boys of which I had been a prize member of since 1990, was holding an Independence Day picnic at its private facility at Wekiva Springs State Park in Apopka, Florida. The climax of one of these special picnics was that one special person between the age of 18 to 30 would be chosen in a lottery as a "sacrifice". The day was nice...blue skies with clouds at a minimum and a high temperature of 93 degrees. All the attendees were comfortably attired in athletic tee shirts, short-sleeved tee or schimmel shirts, mid-thigh cargo shorts or cutoff jeans, below-the-calf or anklet socks and sneakers. For hygenic reasons, no one was permitted to wear sandals without socks. So no sandals were worn by any of the attendees. As I looked around me, I was astounded at all the hairless masculine legmeat which was available. All those handsomely muscular arms and modelesque legs with all those visible thighs, calves and kneebacks to tempt the teeth and tongues of the attendees who would be lucky enough not to be chosen for the "sacrifice".

I was the exception at that special Fourth of July picnic
back in 2000. I wore long sleeves and short shorts!!!

     As every one of us entered the park for the day's event, each car's driver was given the amount of tickets to match the amount of men and boys in the car. Upon each ticket was a consecutive number which would be read after the lunch. As I got out of my car, the dark quality of my tanned legmeat attracted everybody's attention. Little did I realize at the time that, when I turned my back to them, all eyes were riveted upon my kneebacks and the muscular meat above and below. I could only imagine that all the men and boys who I passed on my way to my picnic table must have been licking their lips in anticipation, hoping that I would be the one chosen for the "sacrifice".

     As I was eating my lunch, I was able to feel adoring eyes glancing at my naked thighs and calves. I kept on looking at the number at the top of my ticket. I closed my hazel eyes, secretly praying that the host would not choose my number, thereby saving my legmeat (and kneebacks) from further humiliation.

     After lunch, we all watched as the host of the picnic fashioned a hangman's noose and threw it over a strong branch of the nearest sturdy oak tree. As soon as was had finished, he turned to all of us.

     "And now, my friends...if you would just remove your tickets, fall flat on your stomachs and permit your hams, calves and kneebacks to bake in this beautiful hot sunshine while we pick the...ahem...unfortunate winner of our annual "sacrifice".

     We all removed our tickets from whatever pocket of our shorts in which we placed them, fell flat on our stomachs and exulted in the hot rays tasting my meats. True, since I wore short shorts and a long-sleeved linen shirt, I had the most meat displayed of anybody else in the group. I chanced to glance at my ticket. Was it the winning ticket? Would I be the unfortunate winner of the annual "sacrifice"? And, if so...what form of sacrifice would it be? I gazed at my number...KL7501293468MT.

     "All right, my friends. I have the winning number in my hand. Would the bearer of ticket number KL7501293468MQ please rise and approach me?"

     I released the pent-up breath which was in my lungs as I smiled, still looking at my number. I missed being chosen as the "sacrifice" not by a number but by one letter. As I glanced about me at the other prone and handsome young men about me, I noticed the unfortunate rise to his feet and, with his head down, approach the host.

     "You have my condolences, my friend". The host looked at all of us as we remained prone, the bright sun still beating down on our thighs, calves and kneebacks. "You may now rise and see who fate has chosen this year".

     We rose from our prone positions, the back of our meats stinging slightly from the hot rays of the Florida sun, and looked at the unfortunate one as he was turned to face us.

The unfortunate one chosen for the "sacrifice"!

     The unfortunate one was handsome and young...probably not more than twenty-three, twenty-five at the most...stood at six-foot-two, with dark blond hair and green eyes. He was clean-shaven and had no hair upon his handsome, slightly muscular meats. He was attired in a bright pair of white dress short shorts, white dress below-the-calf socks and white dress shoes. He also wore a white sports jacket, under which was a white silk short-sleeved dress shirt and bow tie. He looked as though he was fashionably ready to be chosen. The host brought forward a pair of handcuffs and a pair of ankle manacles.

     "What is your name, my friend?"

     "Hugo", came the answer.

     "Please put your hands behind your back".

     Doing as he was requested to, Hugo put his hands behind his back, permitting the host to place the handcuffs upon his wrists. Then, positioning the "sacrifice" beneath the awaiting noose, the host then knelt down and placed the manacles upon Hugo's ankles. The host reached up for the noose and lowered it into position about Hugo's neck, placing the knot under the young man's chin. When all was ready, the host had his assistant pull Hugo up off the ground until his feet were between twelve and fifteen inches from ultimate salvation. After Hugo had been hanging five minutes, I noticed that there were no death throes running through his legmeat.

     The host turned to the rest of us.

     "Everybody to the ball field!" he shouted.

     As everybody else hurried from the sacrificial site, I approached the host with a puzzled look on my face.

     "But he isn't dead!" I told him.

     "Nor will he be for at least four hours, my friend", he replied. "You see, this "sacrifice" is a special case. Hugo was hanged like this because death can not only be attained with the rope against the larynx and epiglottis, cutting off the windpipe and breaking the neck. There are nerves and muscles at the back of the neck which control other nerves and muscles of the face. As the major muscle weakens, the nerve which controls the face are afflicted. When this happens, the eyes open wide and rarely blink. The sardonic muscles are also effected. These muscles controls those which cause us to smile. As the area is further effected, the spinal disc become enflamed and rupture; the fluid leaking from them weaken the spinal bones, which crack and, soon, cut the spinal cord, finally killing the "sacrifice". When we return after five hours of fun, I will place my thumbs against Hugo's kneebacks and feel for a pulse. When I don't find one, we will then examine Hugo's face. His eyes will be glazed but still staring at the sky and there will be an eternal smile upon his face, giving him the appearance that he was happy to be hanged to death at the picnic. His dead body will then be taken down, decapitated, disrobed and butchered for our barbecue dinner".

     "You mean we're going to eat him?"

     "Of course! After all, a dead human body, when thoroughly and properly cooked, would taste just like beef or any other meat which we slaughter for our consumption".

     "Have you ever eaten a dead body before?"

     "Once. When I was fifteen, my neighbor's house burned to the ground in the early morning. The man was a widower and lived in the house with only his nineteen-year-old son. I used to watch his son play basketball with his friends and noticed that he had beautifully muscular legs and licked my lips in wonder".

What the host had seen before the fatal fire!

      "You dreamed about eating him?"

     "Well, you should have seen him when he was alive! He may have been five-foot-ten and about one hundred and ninety pounds...but he was solid and firmly packed. Anyway, the night of the fire, the son...his name was David...had a fight with his father. The man had been drinking heavily and was probably in a drunken stupor and chain smoking when he fell asleep and started the fire. By the time David woke up, the whole house was already a blazing inferno. I was the only one home at the time because my father was on his honeymoon with his recent trophy-wife. I watched as the house burned and heard David screaming for help".

     "Well, surely other people would have called the fire and police departments!"

     The host shook his head.

     "Our houses were the only ones on that block. The nearest neighbor was about three-quarters to a mile away. I had the pleasure of watching that house burn to the ground all to myself. Anyway, when I rummaged through the remains of the house after it had sufficiently cooled, I found the skeletal remains of David's father among the burned frame of his chair. I walked into what used to be David's room and found him laying prone on the floor, burned beyond recognition, with smoke still rising from his once-beautiful body. The smoke reached my nose...and I got the whiff of roasted almonds. I realized that this was what a dead body smelled like after it was totally cooked. I figured...why should I let this beautiful body go to waste now that it was dead? I went back home, got dressed in my tee shirt and shorts, retrieved a blanket, went back to the remains of David's house, rolled his body onto the blanket and pulled it deep into the woods that our street ended in. I knelt down and touched David's thigh, which, to my amazement, broke open under my touch. I reached further in and found that David's body had been cooked all the way to the bones. I ripped away a chunk of David's thigh, put it in my mouth, chewed and swallowed it".

     "How did it taste?"

     "Not bad. It was a bit stringy and tough...but still very chewy and delicious. A lot like roast beef. I liked it so much that I tore the entire leg loose from the hip...which wasn't too hard to do...and ate it down to the bones. Then, I returned to the other leg and did the same. I finished both legs before sunset that day and went home. When I went back into the woods the next morning, the rest of his body was gone. No doubt stolen by wild animals".

     "Do you ever think about him?"

The rest of his burnt body was never found!

 

 

     "Every time we hold these Knee Lovers picnics". 

 

     The host looked down at my legs.

 

     "I noticed that you looked relieved when the number was chosen. Why?" he asked.

     "Every letter and number were the same...except the last letter. My number ended with a T".

     "Whereas Hugo's ended with a Q. You are lucky, my friend. Otherwise, you would have been hanging while Hugo played with the rest of us".

     "Yeah...and my body would have been barbecued for dinner tonight!"

     The host glanced down at my tanned, well-muscled meat, looking them over and licking his lips.

     "Yeah!" He patted my shoulder and smiled. "Well, let's leave Hugo to hang in peace and contemplate what is going to become of his body...especially his legmeat...and join the others!"

Well, we played sports for the next five hours and returned to find Hugo right
where he was hanging, his glazed blue eyes facing the cloudless blue
sky and an eternal smile on his still-handsome face. Like the boy
the host ate when he was fifteen, Hugo also tasted great. I was
lucky again. I got a whole thigh and a kneeback!
HOW SWEET IT WAS!

     If you should wish to either join or form your own Knee Lovers branch, I can tell you how. Email me at:

sashak1971@aol.com.

     Remember...the main rule is that all members must wear shorts and socks but not block thighs, calves and kneebacks.