Just couldn’t tough it out, could you, Villere?
Big, bad boy starting a rebellion with your buddies, but when it comes time to sac up and stick it out in prison until you can be shot to death with your friends, you go and die of pneumonia or the flu or the beatings of the guards or some equally dumb shit.
All you had to do was sit quietly in a prison cell in Southern Louisiana before the advent of air conditioning, true modern medicine, or serious sanitation processes and not die until you were able to stand in front of a bunch of guys pointing muskets at you until they shot tiny balls of lead into your body and watched you bleed out. Simple, right? Apparently not.