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by here afore ya leave and I’ll give ya free samples. It tastes better’n it sounds.”
    I gave her a thumbs up, so I wouldn’t have to open my mouth. I didn’t want to offend her with my gag reflex. She turned her back to us and finished unpacking some boxes at the back of the tent. The next couple booths were filled with more customary southern foods like venison, roast pig, and rabbit. 
     
    “Hey Shasta! Look at this!” Ulyssa waved a can at me from the booth across the walkway. 
    I walked over and she handed me the can. 
    “It’s canned possum! Isn’t that awesome? We should get some as gag gifts. I asked her - it ain’t real possum. It’s spam!”
    The sales woman caught me as I gave Ulyssa a weird look and her face tightened into an evil grimace.
    Ulyssa put the can back on the table and grabbed a plastic bag. “What about a mullet wig?”
    I rolled my eyes. I hope the sales woman wasn’t offended. The mullet looked good on her.
    “Wind chimes?” Ulyssa pointed at a slice of trailer siding painted with a mountain scene dangling twelve Pabts Blue Ribbon beer cans like chimes. Mrs. Mullet ran her hand along the cans creating a clanging sound.
    “I think you’re getting too caught up in this festival.”
    “Maybe, but you have to admit that doorbell is funny.”
    I looked around the plastic walls for the doorbell. “What doorbell?”
    “That one.”
    I turned my head to the right where a fake whitetail deer butt hung chained to the tent pole. 
    “You can’t be serious.”
    “Shheeettt! Mmnutsurewhatyournbout, but thisunhere is one of our best sellers.” At least that’s what I think she said. Her Cajun accent was so thick, I easily imagined her speeding through the Bayou on an airboat with her mullet whipping in the wind. She mistook my confusion for interest and leaned over and stuck her finger into the deer butt, depressing the glowing button. “Ithasen four different doorbell sounds.” 
    “Eeeerrrreerreeaaaarrreeeeee.” Erupted from the shaking, puffy whitetail.
    I stepped back. “What the . . . ?”
    “Angry doe.”
    She flipped a switch on the side and pressed the doorbell again making the tail wiggle and triggering a series of burping and squeaking noises. 
    “Urghh. Urghh. Urghh. Urghh. Errea. Errea. Errea.”
    “Mating calls of a buck and doe.” 
    “Seriously?” I asked.
    “Fuh shore, for true!” she answered, leaning down to grab a bag for the doorbell.
    “Has anyone ever been attacked because a real deer got confused?” 
    She left the bag under the counter and squared her large frame into an aggressive stance. “I don’t rightly know. And you best not be planning one of them fancy lawsuits. I ain’t responsible if you get attacked because of this here doorbell. You chure are giving me a bad case of choux rouge!”
    She smacked both hands on the table shaking her necklace loose from her tank top. I stared at the eerie accessory. It was a brown beaded necklace with with an odd assortment of trinkets suspended from it. One string held a swirled charm surrounded by shells of different sizes and colors. Another second string held a domino and an elongated tooth of some sort. On the opposite side, a chicken claw twisted against a yellow amulet. The last, and most creepy string dangled in the center of the necklace. It was leathery object with sticks shaped like human limbs waving at me. 
    She’s giving me the creeps. Time to go.
    “C’mon Ulyssa. Let’s go or we’ll miss the parade,” I stammered, never taking my eyes off the waving sticks.
    “Y’all ain’t gonna buy nothing?” 
    We shook our heads.
    “It’s bad luck if da first don’t buy nothing.” Her anger made the leather stickman start dancing.
    She narrowed her beady eyes at me again, grabbing my right hand as I turned to walk away. 
    “What are you doing?” I said, trying to pull my hand back, but she had a strong grip, probably from wrestling all those alligators.
    “Women in my family are