Here’s the most recent installment of Attack of the Lesbian Activist Squirrels. A designated page with the full story puts the pieces in order.
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Earl was tangled up in a couch. It had been flipped during the first game of Beer Football he’d ever witnessed. Roxanne, apparently the final arbiter of these things, had declared BeckyBat the winner. Limp Willie had been dispatched to drive Spackle and his broken arm to the ER, the trailer was now tilted five degrees off level, and the local VFD had just “saved” the smoking chassis of a truck that still smoldered in the yard.
Predictably, Roxanne had invited the VFD to stay on after their fire call to “monitor” the situation. Most of the firemen were contentedly eating steak and drinking beer. A few had made friends in Chigger’s crew. They’d broken out a welder and were “improving” the firetruck.
“What do ya say Edgar H? Fishing! You and me! We’ll catch us some fish!” Chigger’s face was close to Earl’s and it was only slightly better than looking at his bony ass.
Earl pondered his response. Was he willing to wear a wire and get the goods on a maniac like Chigger? Spudballs came to Earl’s rescue. “No way in hell you’re giving away our secret fishing hole to Edgar H here. Boy’s wet behind the ears!”
Earl tried to muster an argument for going fishing with Chigger but couldn’t get the memory of the mink Speedo out of his mind. Chigger smiled in his uniquely crooked yet predatory way. “Fine, but you and Eelpout will have to train him up before we do the Post Office.” Earl’s ears stood on end. Spudballs sighed… “fine, I’ll debrief him later.”
Chigger elbowed Earl in the ribs and winked obscenely. Then he was gone.