“Beautiful Day, Sheriff!”

Ma couldn't help but nervously glance in the direction of the police cruiser pulling up the driveway.

Pa, on the other hand, stood stoic, steely eyed, and unflinching.

Ma worried they might have come with a warrant in hand.

Pa knew there was no way in hell he was going to allow those prying swine in HIS house, warrant or no warrant.
Inside their quaint, unassuming, farm house, the pile of bodies was still warm.

Back to back draughts and the two years of failed crops that accompanied them, mixed with the possibility of losing the farm that had been in their family for three generations. This had taken its toll on the two.

Pa had concocted a country-bumpkin conspiracy theory - he blamed the continual bad luck on the farmhands that showed up looking for work.

Ma and Pa were kind enough to give the guys a job when they appeared at their door after hoping off a freight train, but their tempers slowly boiled over as task after task turned into disaster.

Everything these guys touched turned to shit.

Pa began to think that the hobos were sent there by the bank to ensure they lost the farm.

Earlier in the day, Jimbo, the worthless worker/hired saboteur, ran the tractor into a culvert out in the field, rendering it useless. Pa had had enough.

“Beautiful Day, Sheriff!”

When the boys came back to the barn to tell the old man what had happened, he was tossing hay in the pig pen and letting his mind work overtime.

As soon as the news about the tractor came out of Jimbo's mouth, he felt a sharp pain in his stomach. He didn't realize what had happened until he looked up and saw Pa standing there, at the end of the pitchfork that had been run clean through him, with a crazed look in his eyes.

Pa blurted out, "You sonsabitches think I don't know what's going on?" Then he put a muddy boot to Jimbo and pushed him off the fork, and began jabbing the other two men like he was doing nothing more than shucking corn.

When he was done with the traitors, he went to the water spigot to clean up, then called Ma down to help move the bodies.

They threw the bodies in the attic and covered them with sheets, figuring to bury 'em out in the field later that night.
But, apparently the neighbors had heard the men's screams and called the local sheriff.

At this point, the murderer and his accomplice came outside to greet the first deputy who showed up at their house.

Ol' Pa figured he might as well have his trusty pitchfork with him, just in case, the Sheriff and his boys got any bright ideas.