The fine art of exaggeration

My husband has a tendency to exaggerate. I'm wondering if it's a man thing...

Like, if something stinks, it doesn't just smell bad. It is the most horrible, awful smell - something worse than a deer carcass split open at the belly, lying in a landfill, on top of a trash bag full of spoiled cabbage that was cooked a few days ago. See what I mean?

If he catches a fish, it isn't just a fish. It is a HUGE trout with the mouth larger than Jaws, a body obviously genetically related to a sea monster and a fin larger than a whale's tail. In reality, it was probably a perch, but... Who am I to argue?

So, when my husband comes home yesterday and tells me that he saw a snake at work, I knew what was coming. Sure enough, it was a Saber Tooth Rattle Copper Moccasin Snake that almost killed him. It had teeth the size of a Saber Tooth Tiger's, a rattle with 100 buttons, shiny skin like a Copperhead and a large white mouth that he just knew was like a Cottonmouth. The snake was as round as my husband's thigh and longer than his dump truck. It's venom was strong enough to kill him within seconds...

My God, you must be thinking it was a cobra or something, right? Well, this is Virginia. We don't have those. We don't even have Cottonmouths. Now, we DO have Copperheads and Rattlesnakes, but to my knowledge, the snake cannot be a mixed breed. Regardless, my husband is sure that it was.

So, do you want to know what I think it probably was? A plain, simple Black Snake. Probably a skinny, little baby. My husband is going to take a camera to work next week and show me. We'll see...

Anyone want to wager a bet as to what kind of monstrous snake my husband actually saw?