One thing I can say about the south – the people sure are friendly. After a while that southern charm starts to rub off on even normal people like me.

It would probably do some of you asshole jerk-offs some good to spend some time down south.

Take for instance, my new buddy, JoJo.

We met after I left the elephant-shaped gas station and realized I was now in the Central Time Zone. I stared up at the miserable, glaring sun and thought, “Dammit, an extra hour of that bastard.”

I quickly set a course for as close to true north as the roads would allow to get me out of this heat.

Presently, I found myself on state hwy 431 when I saw this sign. (pic related)

Naturally, I turned down the dirt path to investigate.

I passed this. (pic related)

That’s the second most orange hearses I’ve seen in one place.

At the top of the hill there was a veritable beehive of activity. It was after 5 p.m. Central Something Time and festivities begin at sundown.

JoJo came over and asked how he could be of assistance. Nevermind that he had a thousand things to do and time was short. He was polite, friendly, patient, young and good looking with a certain  casual charm. He reminded me a lot of myself. You know, except for the polite, friendly, patient, young and casual charm parts.

Me: I’m travelling around the country looking for unique things. Haunted Chicken House? What’s that?

JoJo: It’s pretty much like a regular chicken house. ‘cept with ghosts.

Me (giving JoJo that same look people give me when they can’t tell if I’m serious, which I will represent like this: …

JoJo: We got rats,too. ‘course all chicken houses have those.

Me: …

Me: So, what is this? Like a Halloween thing? (Which might be the stupidest question I have ever asked)

JoJo, patiently even though it was such a stupid question and he was very busy:

Well, we were gonna keep it open year round but, you know what? There just ain’t much call for a haunted Chicken House ‘cept in October.

Me: … OK, so, why a chicken house?

JoJo (pointing, and deadpan as always): We were gonna use that barn there. But, heck, even the ghosts won’t go in there.  Gives me the willys. You’re welcome to go take a look around if you’d like.

Me: … So, you got anything else? Or just the chicken house?

JoJo, gesturing with his chin towards the woodline: We got a haunted trail. It’s about a quarter mile long.

Me: What’s on that?

JoJo (looking slightly embarrassed): Well, we’re not too sure. It’s awful dark, so’s you caint see much. And most of the folks that make it back, well, they stay pretty quiet for a time, if you know how I mean. I been meaning to check it out, but I stay pretty busy.

Me: …

In the few minutes that we spoke several people with business emergencies approached but we’re extremely hesitant to interupt because JoJo was talking to someone (me, pic related)

I decided to let these good people get on with their preparations and said my goodbyes. That’s when I noticed a TSHIRT stand and said I would like to buy one as a souvie for my lovely bride.

As an act of flagrant hospitality, JoJo refused to accept payment – it was his gift to me.

Ok, so, in short – I did not get to tour the actual attraction, but I can rate it based on the ilk of the people there. They take their fun pretty seriously and will want to make sure you folks get good entertainmemt value for your fun bucks.

If, somehow, you find yourself in Eastern Alabama on hwy 431, 8 miles south of Interstate 20, do not miss the Haunted Chicken House. I know I had quite a time.