The origin of the Heartshe Holler is a riddle wrapped in an enigma and lots of bacon.
When Boss Hoss Heartshe dies, who will inherit the town? The answer is a secret you can never know! (Answer: his secret son.)
Hambrosia and Hurshe use the greatest weapons of all time to get control of the holler: hand chops, doll-napping and murder.
Boss Hoss Heartshe decides its high time Hurlan, his head man-boy in charge cracks the nut of the town curse.
Sometimes low-class people require high-tech solutions. And the bible.
When Hurlan discovers that his calling is to be a doctor, his sister, Hurshe, takes advantage of his crotch generosity.
When a non-meddling non-reporter doesn't stick his nose where it doesn't belong, the holler goes on HIGH ALERT!
Witch sister'll win the Miss Heartshe crown: Hurshe or Hambrosia? Pageant judge Hurlan will try dying... or die trying!
Hambrosia teaches Doc that death is a gift, but Doc exchanges it for a thinly veiled metaphor concerning the complexities of the abortion debate.
Sometimes you just gotta get away from it all, in order to destroy the entirety of civilization.
The mind is a terrible thing. Viva Cerebroheims!
When a henchbaby's guilt comes back to haunt the Holler, Hurlan must become a man - all over his gun.
Death plays doorbell ditch in Doc's crotch. Hurshe answers the ding dong.
After many lonely years, Hurlan finally gets to feel the cold touch of a mommy.
Hurlan's tangled heart gets tied up in more twists than a bag of pretzel sticks when he hears the international grunt of love.
The whole of Heartshe gets bitten in the dog by the hot wolf of American sexceptionalism.
A mysterious stranger shows Heartshe, the rock hard way, that humanity is a celestial continuum.
The only thing more brainless than a dumb guy is a dumb guy with a brain.
yrotanalpxe-fles (Hold mirror up to this text, then to your own face. You have just confronted collective despair.)
Destiny spelled sdrawkcab is Mee Maw.
Good things only come to those who crawl desperately into living cadavers.
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