Requiem For A Snake Story

Snake stories in this non-award-winning blog have resulted in the first REQUEST.
So here it is:
The half foot of rain the past day on Southeast Texas surely will bring out snakes in Pinewood, where wild and domestic happily co-exist.
Other than the one about the copperhead that got into a neighbor's house and balled up in a pinball machine, there aren't many stories going around regarding horrifying or deadly snake encounters out there - and encounters are common.
When it rains like it has, at least a half dozen dead copperheads, among numerous other serpents, will be lying dead in the road the morning after the rains stop. Rains must make copperheads frisky.
I witnessed this on my first runs after moving out there and at first thought we'd move into a big snake pit.
But live snakes were rare. The ones I saw, usually copperheads, had their heads bashed in. At first, I believed it to be a product of morning motorists' amazing aim.
But I later learned it wasn't the motorists behind the slaughter. Groups of women, most of them senior citizens, were strolling around in the morning, carrying sticks or golf clubs and merrily braining the poor snake that made a fatal decision to slither across the road.
In the more than two years we've lived in Pinewood, I've seen only one live snake on the road while out running. In the pre-dawn light, I didn't see it until the last minute, forcing me to hurdle. I stopped and turned to find a huge water moccasin, casually looking back at me as if to say, "You want some of this?"
I didn't, so I ran on.
Had the little old ladies been there, they would have given him plenty.