Dayna PereiraHost
You know, the kind of town where the biggest scandal of the year is someone was bringing store-bought cookies to the church bake sale.

A group of boys, including brothers Edward and Freddie May, are playing a pickup football game in the schoolyard as the lights start to go.

And every single one of them is about to become a footnote in American folklore.

It arcs low and drops behind a nearby ridge like something landed, appearing to come down in the farm of G. Bailey Fisher.

They take off running for the Mayhouse and spill the whole thing to Edward and Freddie's mother, Kathleen.

Now, to her credit, considering the times, Kathleen didn't swirl her gin fizz and say, Wonderful children, now run along through the dark creepy woods and trespass on the farmer's land who undoubtedly has a gun and might shoot you for funsies.

Now, Eugene was a National Guardsman, and therefore, by small-town logic, the closest thing to muscle that this expedition was getting.

Honestly, if a guy named Eugene was my muscle, I'd probably just shove myself in a locker and call it a day.

And yes, I know my stereotype of the name Eugene is showing, but mind you, the only Eugenes I've ever known are, like, Eugene the Nerd from Greece and Eugene Levy.

So if you know a badass named Eugene, please send him my way so I can stop perpetuating misleading stereotypes.

You know, the kind of town where the biggest scandal of the year is someone was bringing store-bought cookies to the church bake sale.

A group of boys, including brothers Edward and Freddie May, are playing a pickup football game in the schoolyard as the lights start to go.

And every single one of them is about to become a footnote in American folklore.

It arcs low and drops behind a nearby ridge like something landed, appearing to come down in the farm of G. Bailey Fisher.

They take off running for the Mayhouse and spill the whole thing to Edward and Freddie's mother, Kathleen.

Now, to her credit, considering the times, Kathleen didn't swirl her gin fizz and say, Wonderful children, now run along through the dark creepy woods and trespass on the farmer's land who undoubtedly has a gun and might shoot you for funsies.

Now, Eugene was a National Guardsman, and therefore, by small-town logic, the closest thing to muscle that this expedition was getting.

Honestly, if a guy named Eugene was my muscle, I'd probably just shove myself in a locker and call it a day.

And yes, I know my stereotype of the name Eugene is showing, but mind you, the only Eugenes I've ever known are, like, Eugene the Nerd from Greece and Eugene Levy.

So if you know a badass named Eugene, please send him my way so I can stop perpetuating misleading stereotypes.
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