"Oh my Gaad, that's (i)terrible(i)!"  She said and broke into a crazy giggle.  "Now you'll have to stay with us," her partner untopped a bottle of beer with his thumb.  The person being told this "news" bite the inside of a lip, mind picking through "strategy" while body trapped in fluid situation.

     "Now come and sit down (i)hot shot(i) and have some (i)brunch(i)."  She hooked her arm into the crook of an elbow and pulled the person towards a slimey, molded picnic table.  There was no food.  The guy drained the beer, belched smelling like dirty socks, and slid the bottle over the edge of the table to pop open another.

     "Sitdown!" The she commanded.

     Stripped down to tanktop and jeans, a fourth person was thrown from a car coming in silently, creeping down the slope.  A cloth flour sack was over the head, draw string pulled tight.  (i)Too tight, irritated skin on neck(i) mind observes.

     (i)Never far away(i) had been more of a family of families' oath than a motto.  But because a "they" had refused to unlock the "esential worker" category on payroll....

    In spite of (i)being warned(i) about our (controversial word) "attitudes", maybe not always letting us maintain (i)besties(i) status we persisted in aiming for some kind of friendship.

     "Lovey Dovey!" She automatically drank a third of a fifth and wiped her lips with the back of her wrist.  Handed me the rest.

     At the Invite campfire all of the girls had donned wigs and props and went out of the little bus like football players entering a stadium.  Some time would be passing until fieldwork mentors would also be coming.

  "Ready to see what it's like?" 

  "Working in the fields tonight darling?" A guy called from a passing ATV, golfcart-sized.  Off the back from between two big bags of garbage a second man hopped off and switched locker room bags with one that was on one of the tables.  "Hope none of y'all didn't eat much." 

    We were on our own by then, not little rally-puff chickadees in an egg carton.  The fake candelabra flickering grotesquely angled "flame" on a trailer "wall".  A beastly being, amalgamation of humanoids in the later science fiction, awaited (i)next(i) on the platform "bed".  More genitals were spit and coughed into a pickle jar.  

     "Ready?" The gun pointed at the ground asked.

     Every emotion in the books whirled up into bile at the back of the throat as a bestie was grabbed bypassing a real virgin in the queue of (i)next(i).  The flannel sheet atop the writhing snake, ghostly white popped open and a man's friendly face said something like, "That's what's next.  Let me consult the Master." 

     We made a human rope chain by grasping each others' arms and started to pull away once the  person with the gun had been headbutted. But some among us had been told (i)pass this initiation(i) and you're in for life, so the pulling away was compromised.

     By daylight the Detective had quietly (i)so as not to arouse anyone(i) located all fifteen "bodies" that had gone into "the site".  Most were sleeping peacefully.  There were a few couples who'd been on tours and assignments and hadn't seen each other in a while, so.

     Other leaders from the various camps we'd been in stockpiled themselves in as "back up". I got up very early as I'd tailored myself to do.  I'd made a campfire and hot water for tea and coffee and was reminiscing all the things that could be done with a bustelo-ball when the Detective placed a little metal bucket of dirt on the picnic table.  "Wanna go fishing?" 

     "Not sure my license is good here." For the Communications people we'd been "drop-ins". 

     "(i)Expeyer'd(i)?" 

     "Naw." The detective started to walk away but then came back and asked, "Do you have extree paper and pens?" 

     "Sort of.  Not for keeps and you all can't use my black pen." 

     "Do you really have a tail light out?" 

     "Nope." 

     A traditional course MP awoke the prospects.  Two girls with hair as short and long as it could be before shaved heads scrambled out of the tent.  "Anyone else in there girls?" 

     "No ma'm." 

     "Affirmative." 

     Checked to make sure tent packed properly. 

     "Can't smoke a cigarette." 

     "Told you." 

     "Good thing we quit like ten days ago." 

     "What's the bucket for (i)puker(i)?" 

     "Obviously not that," I indicated the pile of ooze she had stepped in. 

     The young Detective had his hands on his hips and asked, "Would you like to sit down?" 

     The real MP was driving away. 

     "What's in the bucket?" 

     Detective said, "Genitals." 

     At that one girl puked and the other chose to (i)have a look(i).