When Shadrach Young, a 23-year-old steel worker from Gary, Indiana travelled to Millerville, Alabama to collect a small inheritance in 1935, he was laboring under the strange and dangerously naive misapprehension that the Deep South had been entirely reconstructed by the turn of the century.

While he was attending to his legal business, he happened to overhear mention of a house of "ill fame" located at 636 Maple Street and operated by one Madame Camilla Crawfurd. It was a hot day and Shadrach was feeling even hornier than usual, and usual was very. So, he decided to avail himself of the services of Madame Camilla's establishment.

It was a short walk to 636 Maple St. and soon Shadrach was ringing the front doorbell. It was answered by a very stout woman of a certain age wearing too much makeup with blonde hair which was black at the roots.

"Excuse me, ma'am. Are you Mrs. Camilla Crawfurd ?" She nodded. "I'd

hire the services of a blonde, blue-eyed white girl."

"We don't serve niggers here." replied Mrs. Crawfurd.

Shadrach's friendly expression evaporated. He glared at her and growled "Well, you'll serve this'n.", pushing his way through the doorway.

Normally, his entry would have been blocked by a bouncer, Elmo Hankins, but Elmo had ruptured himself on both sides in a foolish show of strength, trying to lift the front of a Packard Twin-Six by the bumper.

At 265 lbs., Madame Camilla was no mean obstacle, herself, but Shadrach stood 6' 4" and weighed 288 lbs, none of it fat.

"Now git me a blonde, blue-eyed white gal."

"Elsa ! Ya got a customer." bellowed Camilla. A hefty "Dutch" girl entered the lobby and shrank back in horror.

"Room 19" snapped Mrs. Crawfurd.

As she passed Mrs. Crawfurd, Elsa muttered sotto voce "You're gonna owe me for this."

"I'll make it right." whispered Madame Camilla. As soon as Shadrach and Elsa were out of sight, Mrs. Crawfurd dialed an unlisted number she had been given. She had no idea where the telephone that answered that number was.

The telephone rang in Sheriff Watson's inner office. Closing the door behind him, he answered the call with a single word spoken softly into the mouthpiece . "Klan."

"This is Camilla Crawfurd. There's a biggity nigger from up north makin' whoopee with one of my white gals in Room 19."

"Why didn't Elmo stop him ?" asked the Klansman.

"Elmo ruptured himself tryin' to lift a Packard automóbile. Anyhow, this nigger looks like he could pick up that Packard and carry it on his shoulder. "

"We'll be there quick as we kin. If he finishes before we git there, haggle with him over the price" Sheriff Watson beckoned his two deputies to come into the inner office and pulled down the rollerblind over the glass in the door. He had opened three lockers by the time they came in.

Each contained a white sheet and a white conical hood with eye-holes.

"We got Klan business. There's a biggity nigger screwin' a white gal at Camilla's house." One of the deputies started to pick up a coil of rope, but the sheriff shook his head. "Nope . I've got a better idea." Drawing on a pair of rubber gloves, he fetched a machete from the corner.

A few minutes later, a battered 1927 T-Model Ford with no license plates pulled into the back yard of 636 Maple St. and three Klansmen, one carrying an unsheathed machete rushed into the house through the back door.

Silently, they stole along the first floor corridor to room 19 and listened at the door. They could hear heavy breathing, creaking bedsprings, moaning and gasping. The hinges and lock were well-oiled and the tall Klansman with the machete was able to enter, followed by the two others without disturbing the couple on the bed.

Shadrach was driving his 10 by 2 inch flesh piston up and down rapidly in Elsa's over-stretched cylinder. At the bottom of a down-stroke, the tall Klansman slipped the blade of the machete between their bellies

and push it toward their knees. There was a momentary resistance and then it slipped down along their thighs.

Shadrach leaped up , looked down at the place where his most treasured possession had been and where there was now nothing but a copiously bleeding wound. Blood ran down over his now useless testicles

and down his thighs.

"My cock ! Where's my cock ?" The Klansman holding the bloody machete pointed to something which resembled a bit of red rag protruding from Elsa's still well-stuffed vagina. Shadrach gave a terrible scream, a howl of ultimate dismay as he understood what had happened to him. Then he fell unconscious both from shock and from loss of blood.

The tall Klansman wiped his machete on the bedclothes and they left hastily.

Madame Camilla took one look into Room 19 and ran to the telephone and called Millerville General Hospital and had them send an ambulance to 636 Maple St. Next, she called the sheriff's office to report the crime.

Sheriff Watson and his deputies had just stowed their Klan outfits

in the lockers and locked them when the telephone rang. The sheriff answered the telephone in the pompous tone which he usually used in dealing with the public and sounded little like the Klansman who had spoken to Camilla Crawfurd a scant fifteen minutes before.

"Sheriff Douglas Watson speaking."

"Oh, Sheriff Watson, this is Camilla Crawfurd.

"Yes, Mrs. Crawfurd , how may I be of service to you ?"

"Well, Sheriff Watson, somehow the Ku Klux Klan got wind of the fact that a Negro had forced his way into my establishment and was taking his pleasure with one of my girls, a white girl, mind you. Well, they surprised him in the act and mutilated him, amputated his, er, male member, with a machete, she tells me. There's an ambulance coming to take him to Millerville General. Just as soon as I'd taken care of that, I called you, right away, to notify you of this horrible crime.

Someone must have seen him push his way in here and contacted the Ku Klux Klan. I tried to get in his way, but he is huge; he must weigh about 300 pounds."

"Well, why didn't your doorward, Elmo stop him ?"

"Oh, that foolish Elmo. He tried to lift the front of a 3-ton Packard automóbile on Saturday and ruptured himself and now he can hardly walk."

"Ah, yes. Well, don't touch anything at the crime scene until I have seen it, especially, do not touch the doorknobs. How did the Klansmen get in, by the way ?"

"Well, I never saw them, but I would have if they came in through the front door, so they must have come in through the back door which I never lock during the day."

"I see. Then, don't touch the back doorknob either. Those are the most likely places for them to have left fingerprints. I shall arrive as soon as I can ,surely within fifteen minutes.

Be of good cheer, Mrs. Crawfurd. If the perpetrators of this heinous crime have left any evidence pointing to their identities, I shall surely bring them to justice. Not, you understand,that I sympathize with the Negro, but we cannot have people taking the law into their own hands."

By the time Sheriff Watson and Deputy Newcomb had arrived in the county's 1933 Dodge police car, Elsa had managed, using both her vaginal muscles and her fingers, to extract Shadrach's severed penis from her vagina. Anticipating that it might be retrieved, the sheriff had brought a Mason jar and a quart of wood alcohol to preserve it for use as

evidence in the trial of the Klansmen, if they were ever brought to justice.

Of course, no fingerprints were found at the scene. Elsa's description of the machete fitted a common Collins machete such as could be bought in any hardware store in the country. No one had seen the Klansmen arrive or leave (or would have reported it, if they had been seen).

Shadrach's inheritance barely paid his hospital bill .He had paid very dearly for his temerity in seeking sex with a white woman in the Deep South in the 1930's. Many years of torture by insatiable frustrated lust ensued before he became embroiled in a knife fight over money with a man who, almost incredibly, failed to notice that Shadrach had no penis

when castrating him. This final mutilation extinguished the fire of his lust and freed him from torment.