I’d sing a song so forlorn and sweet they’d let me go.
I’d probably go with this one. “Please help me find my way back to God, I’ve been so bad, and don’t know how to find my way.”
Wouldn’t float with Issac Parker…
As my final request, I’d ask them to sing H.M.S. Pinafore for me.
Grab myself around the neck, and warn them not to move or the Scotsman gets it!
“People, it’s 2011. Here we are in the middle of suburban Los Angeles. Many of you are supporting green initiatives, fighting for immigrant rights and hoping to get gay marriage legalized. And yet, you’re about to LYNCH a black man. Do you have ANY idea how far you’re about to set back this state? ANY? HMMM?!?!”
I’d tell them I need to play my ukulele to accompany my last words, a song I wrote myself called “Downfall.” Then after they untie me and hand me my uke, I’d beat them all to death with my Konablaster solid body electric baritone ukulele. Don’t need any help, thanks.
Definitely not Introduction to Equine Tongue, which as I recall had the rather useful command of “Bolt: get me out of here fast!”. I’ve always preferred that to having to resort to a sharp physical bite. What are we, barbarians?
Shame really. Well you probably don’t want to deal with an out-of-control horse anyway… why take the risk when you can just politely remind the mob leader that he doesn’t know where his son is at this precise moment? Rash actions are ever so costly… and it would be even more unfortunate once your associates start to exact further revenge…
“Yes. Let us all forget this regrettable incident has ever happened, go inside and have a cup of tea instead. Oh btw, I have been meaning to ask this earlier: what’s with the torches at 3 o’clock in the afternoon?”
Obviously, since I maneuvered them to this tree, I speak the keyword to my liveoak spell.
“But I’m hero of the revolution!”
It would be just my luck to do this and have it backfire, making one of these appear instead.
Let’s make a deal, qbear. Which ever one of us isn’t caught takes the kid to a movie in case Dad calls home.
We’d get a last meal, right? Well, I’d share my chili with the horse. I’m sure one of those ignorant bastids would be a smoker & We’d be outta there like a Bat Outta Hell…
i always wear my fake congressional medal of honor.
I’d probably try something like this, but with hanging instead of shooting.
Skald says the noose is already around your neck, as I recall.
Meatloaf is going to have to redo that album cover, huh?
*On a hot summer night.
Would you offer your throat to the hangwoman with the noose tied to a dead oak tree?
Will the tree have dry dead fragile roots?
Yes
Will my horse show me her teeth?
Yes
Wlll she take beano in her jaws?
Yes
Will she show the mob her hunger?
Yes
Again. Will she show the mob her hunger?
Yes
And would she never leave without me?
Yes
And does she have gas?
Yes
Yes
On a hot summer night.
Would you offer your throat to the hangwoman with the noose tied to a dead oak tree?
Yes
I bet you’d look damn silly, dead & dragging that tree into kingdomcome… *
You may not, but UncleRojelio just did.
Find Jesus. Preferably, among the lynch mob. Would you participate in the lynching of the guy who thought you were the Second Coming?
Horse pucky!