The Prince Wants My Protection
Language: en
The "Sweet Peach" persona my agency spent three long years building for me died. It took exactly seven minutes into a live-streamed wilderness survival show. Cause of death: a six-foot black rat snake. Method of execution: me, grabbing it by the neck with one hand, whipping it through the air in a perfect arc, slamming it onto the dirt, and yelling in my thickest, most unfiltered Appalachian drawl: "Lord almighty! Get your scaly ass down! Who the hell do you think you're messing with?!" Thirty million people were watching live. My manager went into near-cardiac arrest on the spot. And…