The Enemy Among Us

We had spent an idyllic afternoon at the Carter Mountain Festival picking apples, sipping fresh cider, gorging on apple cider donuts, throwing stacks of hay at one another, and taking creepy pictures of other peoples children. All was wholesome and gay.

And then, right there in the gift shop of ye olde apple barn, I spotted something sinister among the decorative wood carvings. You decide, my friends. Innocent country kitsch? Or has the fascist enemy found aid and succour in the central Virginia apple community?