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