It was twilight I was unloading hay from a large truck for a man some kind of hick I was unloading it unproperly according to him and he began to berate me The next thing I knew I took the pitchfork that I was using and shoved it into his stomach After that I had sawed him into small pieces and stuffed him into a 50 gallon steel drum in front of an old worn down house in the country side His head lay on the top of the pile in the moonlight and as I lit it on fire his face began to melt off his severed head yelling at me in pain leaving me a threat in some foreign tongue I looked off to the side of the barn or old homestead looking down into a valley at the next farm house some miles away lights on but to far away for them to hear or see what was going on Then the bright shine of a cars headlights pulled up behind me as I panicked