Buck's Phototales

Pictures Courtesy of

Another Rainy Night in Georgia

Written by Uncle Buck

While you're here check out the SpookyCash Gallery

I had arrived in town several days prior to the business meeting with the intent of doing some sightseeing.

Everyone imagines of course that travelling to and setting up business conventions is either a romantic, exotic, or exciting means to earn a living.

That is likely because they hear the word "Travel" and vistas of unexplored territories immediately surge into their mental imagery and they hear no more.

The affairs of business associations are not all entirely a matter of entertainment irrespective of the location.

The weather had looked threatening from the onset but this one day represented a full third of my free time in this city of the Old South.
I was determined not to lose an opportunity because of the possibility of inclement weather so, armed with an umbrella, set off on foot to explore a bit of the downtown area.

And so it was that I found myself well off the beaten track when it began to rain.
It rained not a little ...
It rained heavily and I scampered across a narrow street and into an impressive stone and stone and masonry building which I supposed was either a venerable old financial institution or perhaps the county courthouse.

As it happened it was neither, for as I shook the rain from my umbrella and gazed about, I realized that I had ducked into what appeared to be a museum of some kind.

Natural History? Anthropology? I asked myself as I peered into glass cases containing specimans of primitive weaponry.

And what on earth is this?
Where was it originally?
And what purpose did it serve?

I was staring up at a panoramic display of what could only have been the archeological remains of a pyramid.

To judge by the photograph one would have to say that the original, if it indeed was a pyramid, was in something of a shambles.

As a point of fact, were in not for the masonry model housed in its case beneath the mural, I would have had some difficulty knowing just what it was originally.

Even so I still had no real idea of what purpose it served in the society in which it was constructed.

"It's early whatever it may have been," I muttered to myself.
"These weapons have blades edged with a mineral of some sort?"

"It is obsidian," a voice from somewhere behind me spoke and I jumped.
"Excuse me, but I could not help but overhear."

I was startled because I had been absorbed in the displays and hadn't realized that there was anyone else in the room.

"Pardon me! I just ran in out of the rain!"

"Yes, we are subject to deluges this time of year.
Come! The opening ceremony in about to get underway!"


"You did come for the convention, did you not?"

"Well yes, but ..."

"Then please come this way! You are the last to arrive and we have been waiting some for you even as it is!"

"Thankyou, but ..."

There seemed little point in my making further protest. My host had obviously mistaken me for someone else.

But what the heck!
The setup for my own business sessions didn't start 'til day after tomorrow ...
Besides, my curiosity had been aroused and if I found the whole thing to be a dull affair, I could either sneak out during a break or simply get up and leave on some pretext.

My host and I walked together through a long corridor.
The conference rooms were well away from the display area and the walls were devoid of either artifacts or even of any decor to speak of.
Now it seemed that we were angling downward into a basement of some kind.

Lord! What a dark, dank and dreary place this was!
Now my host was hauling open a heavy wooden door. And behind there was ... Light!

The room we entered was so brightly illuminated that I had to shield my eyes for a moment until my vision adjusted.

In a way I was reminded of the old medical amphitheater in the basement of the hospital where I had been employed during the summers of my college years.

But the old amphitheater was wood paneled, dark, austere and forbidding, looking for all the world like the set of a Frakenstein movie.
Even the old custodian had looked like Boris Karloff, for Heaven's Sake!

I had been prepared for something in the same order as my host and I made our approach ...
But this was totally unexpected.

My host ushered me to a row of folding chairs and indicated that I was to sit down and make myself comfortable.
There were a good number of other people in the audience but the amphitheater was not overcrowded and so there was no problem with visibility.

I looked down into the theater and thought of the wooden lectern or portable stretcher tables he remembered from years past.
Here, there was an examining table of some sort, white as was everything else in the room, and apparently permanently mounted on the floor.

They are well prepared in case of fire, I thought quizzically for I noted an extensive sprinkler system mounted overhead as well as a number of drains in the floor around the examining table.

My host had disappeared while I was settling in and it was not long before a man made his entrance on the floor of the theater.
The audience quieted down quickly and I was not at all surprized to see that the man was none other than the host who had greeted me earlier.

"I am indeed pleased so see so many of you gathered here at this meeting of the faithful," our host intoned. "Our last guest has arrived after being somewhat delayed due to the inclemency of the weather and our opening ceremony will be getting underway momentarily. Even as I speak my assistants are seeing that all is in readiness and that our offering is properly prepared."

Two men with all the solemnity and propriety of funeral directors slowly wheeled a stretcher into the floor space of the amphitheater. On the stretcher was the shrouded form of an obviously voluptuous female.

The men positioned the stretcher next to the examining table and stood aside for a moment so that the audience could properly appreciate the auspiciousness of the ocassion. Then with a benign nod from the host, one of the men grasped the woman by the ankles while the other reached under her arms and lifted, transporting her from the stretcher to the examining table. With no further delay the two men removed the shroud that covered the woman revealing her to be completely nude.

The audience murmured their appreciation as she arched her fine body seeking a comfortable position on the table and her fine breasts swelled up at them.

Drop Dead Gorgeous

"Are you quite comfortable, Georgia?" the host asked considerately.

The woman nodded in a detached sort of way for she was apparently well opiated prior to her arrival onstage.

"You are all of course entirely familiar with the history of the Toltec Nation and their descendants so there I will go into no detail at this time as this is neither the time nor the place. Anyone of you who may wish to continue in your particular area of research is of course entirely welcome to pursue your interest by examining the various articles and artifacts on display in the museum.

"In this opening ceremony we are gathered during this week of atonement to pay homage to the gods of our ancestors. And in this, Georgia, has graciously consented to submit herself to the ritual.

"You are of course all familiar with the historic aspects of the obsidian blade and the use to which it was popularly put. The priests of our ancestors were often men in a hurry. Circumstances dictated this for quite often they found themselves in the position of having literally dozens of chests to rend each with its heart to tear asunder.

"Today of course it has become regrettably difficult to obtain either a suitable offering or the proper location in which to maker our sacrifices. This turn of events has provided us a certain advantage I am at some pains to point out. For we find that it is entirely unnecessary to rush through the ceremony for we do not have dozens of lives to offer, but one. This has taught us not to rush headlong into the proceedings but to savor the moment as it were.

"The obsidian blade likewise has been relegated to its place in the museum. And this too is as it should be for we have progressed through antiquity from the stone age of our honored ancesters and today we have many fine steel knives at our disposal such as the one you see here."

Drop Dead Gorgeous

"Likewise we have learned across all the many sheaves of years that it is not entirely necessary to offer the heart of the woman but only her blood."

Drop Dead Gorgeous

"And in what is rather stark contrast to the rituals gone before, the more modern adherents have found that rather than a decisive slash to open the chest, it is distinctly more desirable that the victim survive for as long a time as is humanly possible."

Drop Dead Gorgeous

"This makes the offering more pleasing to the gods while at once making the ceremony more enjoyable for those of us who are gathered in attendance."

Drop Dead Gorgeous

"You will have perhaps noted by now that Georgia is the possessor of a fine full bosom. I will make no attempt to deceive you for despite our best efforts it has been impossible to determine whether the ancients possessed a preference large breasts or small ... And certainly the gods have not to my knowledge chosen to voice any opinion for one or the other ..."

Drop Dead Gorgeous

"It is entirely conceivable that in the early days when the priests had literally dozens of chests to open, that less endowed victims were chosen as a matter of simple expediency ... The heart would be that much more quickly accessible for there would not be any superfluous breast flesh with which to contend ..."

Drop Dead Gorgeous

"But as I mentioned earlier, as time went on, removal of the victim's heart occurred less frequently ... And so it became more fascinating to note how the bosom would rise and the breasts heave as the sacrificial blade was thrust into her chest cavity ..."

Drop Dead Gorgeous
"And of course in this regard, it takes no great imagination to visualize that the deeper the chest is to begin with - the higher her bosom will rise as the knife takes her ..."

Drop Dead Gorgeous

"Of course, plunging a blade through the sternum, as a novice priest will attempt to do upon occasion was and is no simple task. In these instances, rocking the blade slightly would usually suffice to gain entry ..."

Drop Dead Gorgeous

Of course, once the breastbone has been split, the blade could be thrust into the victim's chest with relative ease ..."

Drop Dead Gorgeous

"In ancient times, a task alloted to one of the priests would be to manipulate a goblet in such a way so as to capture a portion of the blood that issued from the wound ..."

Drop Dead Gorgeous

"But this proved to be cumbersome when there were dozens of victims to be slaughtered ... And so relatively early-on the stone masons cut a groove in the surface of the stone altar ..."

Drop Dead Gorgeous

"The blood of the victim could then spurt freely from the wound, cascade down over the chest, pool briefly in the hollow of the belly, and from there run to the bed of the altar where it would drool down the grooves to collect in earthen jars positioned for that purpose ..."

Drop Dead Gorgeous

"Visualize if you can ... The woman's life's blood spurting from her chest as the instrument of sacrifice is buried to the hilt - and then slowly withdrawn as the life slowly ebbs in her helpless body ...

Drop Dead Gorgeous

I could scarcely credit my eyes and my ears strained to pick out the last of the woman's cries which subsided to a short series of deep-chested alto grunts - and then to silence as the knife was removed from her body and a brief cleanup process began ...

Drop Dead Gorgeous

A cluster of people caught my attention as they filed slowly out the door and into the hall where we stood.

"You will have to excuse me now," my host spoke and the sound of his voice shook me from my reverie. "My next lecture is about to begin. I do hope that you find whatever it is you seek and that you have found our discussion to be of some small interest to you."

But for all of the many southern flights that I've taken, and for as many times as I've touched down in Atlanta, Georgia ... And for as many times as I have taken it upon myself to go out walking in an afternoon rain ... Never again have I been able to find the location of that strange and wonderful museum ...