a jug of good kentucky goes for fifteen hundred back in town.
riley?
should we send up some `sky flowers'?
looks like no one's here. the gates stand wide open. there's no sign of life.
maybe they had no choice. foxy and scar move toward a large storage building where a door swings in the night breeze, slapping alarmingly against the wall. beyond the opening is a black maw, like a velvet curtain, past which nothing can be seen.
there could be stenches in there. got a flashlight?
to blow up the green.
what're you, nuts?
i'll get outa here. you take the car.