Stay the fuck out of Murray County. I knew this, everyone ..

Stay the fuck out of Murray County. I knew this, everyone knew this, so why the hell would I ever agree to go to a party there? I don’t know, but I did, and that was a mistake. I was in tow with a girl I was dating at the time as she was the one who was actually invited to the party and not me. After way too long of a drive, we arrived at a house on a large plot of land at the end of an awful gravel driveway in the middle of approximately nowhere. We parked and I could already see a crowd of people that I would never voluntarily interact with surrounding the premises so I started to get real nervous. My girlfriend got out of the car first. She was/is insanely attractive (I too have no idea why she was with me) and immediately gained everyone’s attention. Unfortunately, I followed and everyone’s look of adoration turned to a confused grimace as I emerged from the shadows; I was tall, lanky, had shitty bleach-blonde hair, wore a flamboyant painted leather jacket, my jeans were held together with safety pins and I was basically begging for an ass kicking. If this were a mid 90’s alt film, you would have heard the sound of a record scratch over a wacky Dutch angle. We made our way through the crowd and into the house. Everyone inside showed me the same (lack of) hospitality as everyone outside. It didn’t take long for my girlfriend to find whoever was hosting the party though and they were quick to welcome us, as well as put everyone else at ease. Shortly after, however, the host dragged my girlfriend away on a tour of their house and I was stranded on a sofa in the living room across from a social firing squad of rednecks. It took a while, as well as their utmost brain power, but they were able to form a handful of coherent sentences and I was actually able to connect with, and even somewhat appeal to, them. After a while I thought I had won them over as the head degenerate, this ex-Marine dude, started offering me drinks and sharing stories with me. Oh, how wrong I was. When my girlfriend returned, we decided to take our own tour of the house, hoping to find a room we could have to ourselves. We found one and practically had one another undressed before we could even shut the door behind us. We didn’t even make it to the bed, we just fell to the floor and started fucking. The only light in the room was from the computer monitor and I will never forget the surreal blue glow cast softly over her naked body and the crystalline reflection in her eyes as she laid on the floor. At some point we were interrupted when the host of the party happened to walk in on us. She realized what was happening, laughed, apologized, and closed the door...which I then made sure to lock. A few short minutes later, there was another attempt to open the door. At first we ignored it but whoever was on the other side of the door this time was very persistent so I put my underwear on and went to see what all of the fuss was about. I barely released the latch on the door before I lost touch with all of my senses as the fist of a former Marine plowed it’s way into the room and square into the center of my face, busting my nose and knocking me back onto the bed, followed by every backwoods degenerate at this party rushing in and proceeding to beat the absolute shit out of me. I could hear my girlfriend screaming as they held her, making her wait and watch. Eventually she broke free and jumped on top of me in an attempt to protect me. She even managed to kick the Marine dude in the face, breaking his nose, but it didn’t stop them and the beatings continued for the both of us. Eventually someone managed to get their hands through the crowd and onto us, pulling us out through the dog pile of hillbillies. It was a couple, one of them grabbed me and the other had my girlfriend. They escorted us out of the house and to my car, a mob following close behind. They threw us and our clothes into the backseat and told us that they would be back later. I laid my head in my girlfriends lap as she very patiently held onto me while I threw up in the floorboard and passed out to the sound of country bumpkins banging on the windows and shaking the car. Once everyone had tired themselves out and dispersed, when everything seemed to have calmed down, the couple came back. They asked me if I could drive, which I certainly could not, so they decided to split up where one of them would drive my car and the other would follow in their car. They asked us where they could take us and the only place I could think of was my friend Jeremy’s house, he was the vocalist for the band I was in at the time and would potentially be unphased by us showing up unannounced, bloody and inebriated. I must have passed out again, because I don’t remember a single second of the drive there, but when I came to we were knocking on Jeremy’s door. Thankfully, he let us in and gave us a room. I woke up the next morning to Jeremy bent over and gently nudging me as he whispered my name. When he finally got my attention, I asked what he wanted. He stood up straight and very proudly said “I made tacos.” Stay the fuck out of Murray County.