I went to an insurance claim estimate in the back woods rural area northwest of us the other day. Peoples’ shop had burned down and taken part of the woodlot with it. I pull up and survey the scene from my truck. The lady said her sons and her husband might be home but just go ahead snd have a look. No signs of life, just a score of derelict vehicles, engine blocks, trannys, half finished welding projects and trash. Lots of trash. And a little tin shack maybe 1.5x the size of a side by side. No frame, just corrugated steel lashed together with wire with a tarp over one end for a door. The place had total Texas Chainsaw Massacre meets The Hills Have Eyes vibes. Half chewed animal bones but no signs of dogs. I get out of my truck and start walking towards the scene of the fire. All of a sudden four grown males pile out of the tin shack like circus clowns getting out of an Austin Mini. Not a full head of teeth between them. The older man walks up to me and I assume he is the husband. I tried looking him in the eye while I spoke to him and explained what I was doing on the property, but I didn’t know which eye to look at because each one was looking in a different direction. The sons didn’t look much better. They looked like they hadn’t seen another human or had a shower since the last one that they made disappear. I swear the one actually had drool coming from his mouth. First thing I thought was “OK guys, where’s the dead hookers buried at?” I made it a quick stop and GTFO of there. I swear I heard banjos playing as I left .