Revolutionary

Something about the bayou made people think it was an ideal place to dispose of bodies. It was the third time this month. Jackson observed some dumbass trying to get a tarp wrapped stiff to stay hidden beneath the shallow water. Not that he was a murderer, but if he was going to do this, he would’ve ditched the tarp. In all likelihood, the wildlife would take care of the rest. Still, he watched in amusement. Payne materialized next to Jackson in the shadows, nearly giving him a heart attack.
"Damn! Warn a brother next time. How’s Risse?" 
"She’s good, what are we watching."
"This fool here thinks he’s disposing a body in a tarp. Not without some zip ties, rope, and power tools he ain’t. Even then, not in the water. Fifty bucks says the gators get him before he’s done."
"You’re on mate."

They watched the poor sap abandon the tarp in his frustration, panicking to keep the body from floating. In all the commotion and splashing, what happened next was inevitable by Jack’s calculations. One swift chomp and the chump was gone, dragged to his own watery grave by a 17.5 foot, 1,600 pound predator. Both men gasped, followed by “ouch” in unison. Soon after, another gator followed, taking the dead guy under with him. Again, both men in unison “daaaamn” followed by laughter. Jackson conceded his bet.
"Okay, I did not see the second one coming. So we can call it even."