I dunno Skep........The only terrorist things that Clete has been involved with have been purely accidental.....like the explosion at the Mudcat Condom Factory.

Now some of y'all may not know or have forgotten all about the Mudcat Condom Factory. Paw, Cletus and the Reg boys all had jobs there until Reg accidently opened the wrong valve causing a minor explosion and coating Reg with latex. They peeled it off him and the Reg boys went out and bought plaster of Paris and used the latex mold to make a statue of themselves which they donated to the town. Understandably the town was not impressed and placed it at the edge of the woods on the ridge where the buzzards nest. It now stand as mute testimony to the amount of shit produced in 3 months by one buzzard colony. Sadly, the factory has never been repaired.

Then of course there was that horrendous mess in downtown Columbus.........Cletus, Paw Buford, and the Reg Boys all wound up in jail after setting up a shack and drilling numerous holes on the new Ice Rink in Columbus, explaining to the arresting officer they were just ice fishing. The Reg Boys would have been okay, being Canadians and all (Fielding's three half-brothers, all named Reg) and would have gotten off with a warning had not one of their holes penetrated a gas main. Even this wouldn't have been a major problem had not Paw and Cletus been along and were entertaining the Reg boys with a fart lighting performance which ended with an explosion taking out 2 square blocks of downtown Columbus. Typically, none of them, although hospitalized at the jail infirmary, would believe that they were NOT on a lake and DID rupture a gas line. Cletus just laid there saying, "Damn,what a doozie."

And I gotta' tell ya' that the whole bunch are pretty dim when it comes to firearms of any sort. About three years back, Paw, Cletus, and Buford were out hunting and the result was shooting Buford! Paw and Clete thought he was dead but instaed Buford had been knocked senseless and the 6-pack in his knapsack had taken the brunt od the blast. Paw and Cletus didn't know that and being good members of the CHDA, Paw gave this eulogy on the spot:
O Lord, take our good buddy Buford into thy Heavenly Herd. He was a good ol' boy who knew that 27 was his limit, 'les somebody else was drivin'. So you gotta' forgive him for wearin' that brown coat with the white fanny pack 'cause it was about all he had left to wear after his ex sicced that lawyer fella' on him for back child support. And God, please bestow your benediction on me an Cletus. We had no way aknowin' that Buford had fallen into that dead and rottin' sycamore and got that funny lookin' branch stuck in his coonskin hat. 'Sides that Lord, there MUSTA' been sumpin' wrong with them three Head Cheese sandwiches that Buford had with his beers. I mean when he has aretchin', well me and Cletus woulda' swore it was a buck in rut. So long Buford, we'll miss yuh. We're awful sorry, but I know you understand...'specially since you had a kinda' similar thing happen a few years back with your ex-brother-in-law, Hiram. Dear God, please take our friend's soul to your bosom and forgive him his earthly transgressions. Cletus and me are gonna' take his beat up ol' pick-up and his Ithaca and leave his dead ass right here...'cause ain't nobody else gonna' miss him. Plus, the S.O.B. didn't have no money and we can't afford no funeral or any more trouble with the Law. AMEN

And to be absolutely truthful, the terrorist causes often involve religion and the only glancing blow these guys have had with religion of any sort came right after that episode. Since he was just knocked out and drunk instead of shot dead, its good that Paw and Cletus didn't bury him.......But I tell you the truth, when that ol' boy showed up alive, it damn near killed Paw instead. That reunion led to a joyous evening of the three of them and the Reg boys getting drunk on "Iron City" and 'Shine and roasting a hog out in my backyard alongside the garage. Of course, after a while, Paw started lighting up farts as is his wont and............ The neighbors began to complain about 11 o'clock or so after one of Paw's flamers had ignited the hedge on his property. That would have passed as the boys got it out pretty quick, being full of Iron City and all, but when a major rip set fire to his wife's bird feeder....well, that was it. I tried to calm the guy down and assured him nothing like that would happen again. He went back into his house dragging the charred remains of the feeder and a roasted squirrel that had been looting it when Paw let fly with that fiery thundersprecht.

Anyway, I got them situated again and since my house has aluminum siding, my only request was that they point Paw towards the wall. I figured a good hosing would clean off the worst of it in the morning. I went inside and the revelry continued at a somewhat decreased decibel level with only an occasional flash lighting the window of my den. Around 2 AM the boys came in for a final pee call and of course they couldn't just go. I heard either Reg or Reg in my pantry and before I could get up there, the whole crew was playing sink the Cheerios in my downstairs bathroom. Karen came downstairs at this point and threw a fit since our kids watch everything the boys do and we were spending a fortune in Cheerios. After a severe ass-reaming from Karen, I herded them back outside and suggested they get some sleep around the smouldering pig carcass. I went back in and after cleaning and disinfecting the bathroom and taking a shower, I again settled down in front of the TV to watch a half-hour Infomercial on how I could make thousands a week by selling quinnine pills through Direct Mail Order and running tiny little ads.

They were just getting to the good part with the testimonials and all when there was this giant blast from the backyard and the night sky lit up like a Buddhist monk. There was a moment of silence and then I heard Cletus yell, "HOLY SHEET!!!" Well, there wasn't anyway I could avoid it, so I went out through the garage into the backyard and there they stood, the whole damn bunch of them, except for Buford who was throwing up Iron City and pork fat down his bib overalls over by the smoking hedge. They were staring at an image that Paw's last fart had scorched onto the siding with their mouths hanging open. I stepped back and looked and my first thought was, "Well this ain't gonna' clean off too good and Karen will be really pissed." But when I started to say something Cletus stopped me and I noticed that the look on all of their faces was almost reverent. Paw was standing with his mouth agape and the others seemed awestruck as well, so I looked again.

Cletus turned to me and said, "Doncha seez it Catspaw? Its rite thar!!! Paw done farted Jerry Falwell out his ass!!!" Well, I kinda' had to admit, it DID resemble him in the flickering light of the burning porker on the spit, but I was too much in fear of what the morning would bring from Karen to say anymore than tell them to get some sleep. Problem was, they didn't. I went back inside, the group outside quieted down, and I nodded off before I could get the 800 number for the "501 All-Time Polka Greats" by Myron Kopetz and the Nose Flute Kings.

What I didn't know was that the group had gone off and gotten Pastor Sharphorn, his wife, the Ladies Auxillary, and the Deacons, from the "Church of Evangelical Brethren and Tongue Talking Mohunkers" and they arrived for a look-see about sun-up. When I woke up to the commotion outside it was about 6 AM I guess. The sight that confronted me was reasonably bizarre. At least 150 people were assembled in the backyard and I could see more coming down the alley. A small altar had been erected out of the remains of my stockade fence which was now on the ground, the crowd overflowing into my neighbor's backyard and trampling his stupid-ass garden gnomes into powder....it was the only high spot of the day. Those kneeling at the altar would place small plastic Madonnas and Jesus statuary at the foot of the garage wall and say a little prayer and move on to the donation box that Cletus was guarding. It was then that I noticed that everyone donating more than $25. was getting a "Holy Relic" to commemorate their visit to this newest religious icon which had previously only sheltered my vehicles and assorted cans of dried out wax and rubbing compound.

There, perched upon a throne like affair that I noticed had been assembled from our porch furniture, was Paw. As each person gave his donation, Buford would cut a small piece from Paw's overalls and hand it to them. For $50. they got a piece from the seat, and for $500. a snippet from the flap of his longjohns. It was a kind of poor man's "Shroud of Turin" I guess. Business must have been good since Paw was missing one entire leg of his bibs and he was about bareassed already. I was dumbfounded and I was just considering how to set this up as an infomercial and start booking tours when the County Sheriff showed up and ran everybody off. Then he proceeded to fine me for 19 different offenses and gave me a summons to appear in court for destruction of my neighbors property.

I was able to head off Cletus and the money, which covered almost all of the fines and my neighbor's friggin' gnomes, but it cost another 50 bucks to get rid of Falwell. Now if I could just get shed of the real one for the same price.......................Anyway, I have never been able to figure out how that happened and I suppose it is one of those things best left unexplained. I've always thought that Falwell was talking out his ass, but I never figured you could blow him out your ass, but Paw's a really talented ol' coot so I guess you just never know. Really, I think Cletus had it right with his first two words, "Holy Shit!!"

The only reason you might have to worry is the fact that Cletus recently issued a "fartwad" but believe me, he has no idea who or what is going on!!! I mean really Skeptic, read it for yourself:

THE FARTWAD OF CLETUS
I keepa heerin that the feller whut done put them ol boyz up ta flyin inna them big bildingz has ishooed sum uv the thangs that Catspaw sez ar callt fartwads ur sumpin like that. Now I doan holt with blowin up no bildingz an bringin on all thet tragedy ta folks but I do know an awful lot abowt farts an I figgered I had the same say az thet there nasty fucker an I shur az hell kin match dam neer ennybuddy seppin Paw when it comes ta fartin.

I axt Catspaw why thizzeer Bin Loded feller wud rite sumpin bowt gas passin an Catspaw sed it wuzza jujmint. Wal, I gotta few jujmintz bowt fartin myself soze I thot I cud passem on heer.

1--Iffen ya dun et a lot uv cabbage an stuff, ya needz ta have reel gud jujmint az ta whether ur not ta rip one attall cuz ya mite git yersef a reel fartwad in yer droors.

2--Never stan behind Paw when he flares one off ur yall like as not lose yer eyebrows and yer mustash iffen ya got one.

3--Iffen yer in polite type cumpny then itz gud mannerz ta do the 'one cheek sneek.'

4--Doan ever flote an air biskit after eetin Catspaw's hot wingz. Thair aint no wayz ta do a one cheeker with them neither cuz they like ta set yer bunghole on fire.

I figger them four ar az gud az ennythang that meen bastard cud givout so yall jez take my advice an pray ta god Catspaw doan ever serv ya Hot Wingz an cabbage.

So give it guys......Cletus is no threat at all unless you're standing downwind!

Spaw