The Half-Story after edit/Embellishment

The Half-Story
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Henry lived with his parents, it was a small two bedroom house and the basement wasn't the best of places to live. It was dank, dark and otherwise empty of furnishings. The dirt floor was shifted, loose and foreboding. All in all it was an unsettling place to be but Henry loved it and called it home. He didn't do it often but he tried to find a job and his own place to live or so he tried at least; every time his parents bugged him to. He really wasn't motivated to go. He had a warm-ish bed at night and a roof and food. He didn't need much more and so... he was set. Or so he thought.
Now one thing you gotta know about Henry. Henry liked the women-folk... Henry loved the women-folk.
Mrs. Peters, from across the street, now she was a bit of a batty old thing, but she never did like that Henry boy. She sat up at her open blinds all night watchin', thinking one day she'll catch him and be able to tell the whole town what an awful boy that Henry really turned out to be.
Now often, Henry brought women by, many different women, different shapes, different sizes, even brought boys by from time to time. But Mrs. Peters never caught him with his blinds open. Henry never left the blinds drawn, he was a bit shy you know, but what was so strange, what kept Mrs. Peters watchin' was the fact that of all the people she saw goin’ into his place, not-a-one ever left.
On a dreary night though, there was a light on in the cellar and she saw a sillowette in the window, It was a strong silhouette -- had to be Henry, and through the tiny cellar window with the blinds in front of it she saw the figure wielding a pick-ax, hackin' away at somethin'. Thinking she finally had him at his worst, Mrs. Peters promptly called the Sheriff. As she thought to herself "Finally!" she wondered at all the people Henry had brought into the house and all the justice she was finally gonna have dealt to that no good boy Henry.
When they broke down the door, they found not a soul upstairs and the basement door was ajar. Creepin' down ever so carefully, so as not to be heard or seen, the police found themselves face to face with what they were led to believe was a murderous family of deviants. Henry, Ma, Pa, and a cute little colored girl wearin' a hot pink little dress dirty and tattered were all there on the dirt floor of the basement. Shovels in hand; face to face, all parties tremblin', Henry looked at the officers and wielding his ax said plainly "Let me explain."