I was at a folk fest in Central Illinois and went looking for an outhouse. I found it. The powers that be there a that good festival had built it over an abandoned coal mine 'cause they were tired of cleaning the old one's innards by shoveling. My aunt Nancy went in there and after an hour we went in to check on her. We found her sitting there dead, apparently asphyxiated. My uncle told me he knew what had gone wrong. It seems Aunt Nancy used to hold her breath until she heard the "splash". As I exited that outhouse, I looked up---and there was Mudcat.

Art Thieme