That evening Ray, the night watchman at the old fairgrounds, came to clock-in. Ramona, the office secretary, handed him an envelope. “What’s this?” Ray asked, examining the childish handwriting scribbled on the front. The address was c/o Kitsap County Fairgrounds, the name read: Lester & Otis “Who are Lester & Otis?” Ramona popped her chewing gum, “You know those hicks hanging around the old barn?” “You mean the redneck carnie and the caretaker?” “Yeah, they got mail. Deliver it.” “No way.” He pushed the letter back at her, “Not my job. I’m a security guard, not a mailman” “Hey, the boss said to. So shut your mouth and have a nice time, sweety,” she patted him on the cheek before resuming her typing. Ten minutes later, Ray was trudging across the fairgrounds, grumbling about his job. As he approached the spooky old barn, he never noticed two figures in the shadows. Ray knocked on the barn, “Is anybody in there?” Suddenly, from behind him came the unmistakable roar of a chainsaw revving up. The last thing Ray heard was the chainsaw slicing into flesh – his flesh. “Dammit, Lester!” shouted Otis as he stepped from their hiding place, “I said scare ‘em, not kill ‘em!” “He looks pretty scared to me right about now,” Lester kicked at their victim on the ground, “Besides, I’m feelin’ a bit peckish.” “He does look plump and tender. Been a while since we had anything but rats and stolen chickens to eat.” “I’ll get the stewpot ready, you sharpen up the butcherin’ cleaver. Wait,… what’s this he dropped when you done vivisected him?” Lester retrieved the blood-spattered envelope from the ground, “Looks like a letter. The dern thing’s made out to us.” “Open it, then.” “Hell, Otis, you know I cain’t read.” Otis snatched the letter and tore it open, “Ain’t no letter inside, at all. Jus’ a newspaper clippin’.” “What’s it say?” “Talks about the mental asylum fer the criminally insane back home. Seems it caught fire due to arson. Dangerous, home-ee-ci-dal characters escaped. Says they’s currently at large.” “What’s large about ‘em?” wondered Lester. “Here’s a picture. Isn’t that Grandpa, Grandma and cousin Bernie in that photo there?” “Yep, that’s Grandma. That’s her one lazy eye starin’ back atcha.” “Lookee here, Grandpa done scrawled somethin’ down at the bottom.” “Whatsit say?” “It say, ‘Johnny Law hot on our tail. Need a place to hide. Weez comin’ fer a visit.’” Lester opined in wonder, “Grandpa always had an articulate command of the written language.” Otis agreed, “Indeed, he displays an eloquent mastery of the pen. But Lester, you know what this here means?” Lester hollered, “TUNE UP THE BANJOS AND BREAK OUT THE CORN-LICKER. WE GONNA HAVE OURSELVES A FAMILY REUNION!” “Yeeee-haw!” OCTOBER IS COMING AND LESTER & OTIS ARE HUNGRY FOR BLOOD AGAIN. GRANDPA, GRANDMA AND ALL THEIR KIN ARE COMING FOR A FAMILY REUNION OF MURDER. JOIN THEM AT THE KITSAP HAUNTED FAIRGROUNDS FOR TERROR, THRILLS, AND SCARY GOOD TIMES.