The sounds of whipping and torn flesh snapped in the dry air. The sun beat down upon the ranch, making a furnace of the countryside.
Bubba slapped a fly on his arm, smearing its entrails. He sniffed and licked his hand. “Mah turn,” Bubba grunted.
Bubba took the whip from Andy and went at it. A trail of red ran down the tree stump. Wind began to howl.
Lisa stepped out from the farm house. “Ya’ll whippin’ ‘melons agayn?”
Thunder rolled in the distance. Lightning flashed.
Lisa whistled, “Ya’ll sher whipped up a storm this taam!”
Bubba spat. “Darn tootin’.”