Mrs. Florence Bagette flees into the night.

It didn't take long for Mrs. Florence Bagette to realize that, with the untimely death of her embezzling Southern Union Bank president husband, his crimes would be soon discovered and she would become persona non gratis in the town of Valdosta, Georgia deep in the reconstructed South after the unsuccessful War of Southern Independence. She immediately gathered anything of value and fled into the night in search of an unsuspecting wealthy gentleman (meal ticket) and a new beginning, if you will. Within minutes of her departure, one by one, Dynah and the other former slaves, now abandoned servants, crept back into the house to discuss their fate and plan their bleak future as "unemployed Negroes" in the hostile, bigoted, and dangerous deep South populated by disgruntled, disillusioned, disempowered white former plantation owners seeking a scapegoat. Dynah, seeing that the house had been ransacked, went to the recently deceased Mr. Balfour Bagette's personal chambers and behind a secret walnut panel retrieved a bottle of his finest cask strength single malt Scotch, a Glenury 50 year old, 42.8. vol., whisky. With a dark orange color, smooth burnt skin of chestnut roasting nose, liquered chocolate, cherry and coffee taste and old sappy oak finish, it was just what the doctor ordered . Drinking the fine single malt while smoking Mr. Bagette's top shelf plantation tobacco hand rolled into cigarettes, the former slaves for a brief moment, started to feel better, but nevertheless an overwhelming since of doom and despair prevailed. One by one they got up to leave the house one last time and disappeared into the night to face their bleak, dark future. Dynah, the only one left, got up and "accidentally" knocked over the ash tray containing smoldering cigarette butts. Moments later the all wood, uninsured but mortgage free mansion, bursted into a blazing inferno. Slàinte, Tommy Maaltman

Florence Bagette learns of her husband's demise.

Mrs. Florence Bagette, the wife of the Southern Union Bank president, Mr. Balfour Bagette, was enjoying her afternoon tea and petits fours on the veranda of her Southern style plantation home in Valdosta, Georgia when Mrs Genivieve Easley burst through the screen door and blurted out, "Mrs. Bagette, I'm so sorry but your beloved husband, Balfour, died this morning while eating breakfast, of a massive coronary. Florence was overcome with emotion, but not because she lost a dear husband. The marriage had died years ago. Mr. Bagette was simply too fat to do anything other than to embezzle from the bank and to eat and drink himself to death. No, Florence was momentarily immobilized by emotion wondering how she was going to maintain her lavish lifestyle now that Balfour was gone. She calmly collected her wits and gently placed her teacup and saucer down on the sterling silver tray next to the sterling silver tea pot, cream and sugar container. She got up and walked across the room and slapped Dinah, her former slave, now serving as head of the household servants in the newly reconstructed South after the Confederacy was ruined by the overly aggressive and destructive Northern troops lead by the punitive demon General William Tecumseh Sherman during the War of Northern Aggression. Dinah said, "I'm so sorry for your loss Miz Bagette. Is there anything I can do to hep?" Florence responded, "Why yes Dinah, you can pack up your things and get out. I can no longer afford to provide for you. And tell the rest of your kind to leave also. There will be no more free lunches on this plantation. And don't let the door hit you on the rear end as you leave." To be continued... Slàinte, Tommy Maaltman