I’m the scoutmaster and the boys need an overnight camp experience for a merit badge.’ ‘Oh, Boy Scouts, eh. I guess that’s OK.’ He opened hi... shotgun and showed the breech to the boys. ‘Wasn’t loaded, but I always carry it when I talk to trespassers. Tends to get my point across.’ He walked up next to the fire and warmed his hands. ‘Telling scary ghost stories on Halloween night are you boys? Mind if I join you? I’ve got a scary one for you.’ He sat down on one of the logs we had pulled into a. We met in our freshman year as roommates and then became friends. He was typically Italian and outgoing even to the point of being a little brash. On the other hand, I was more soft spoken and reserved. Our friendship allowed me to open up a little and I could also say that I could temper his ultra-enthusiasm on a number of occasions. At least three of those occasions occurred when he was certain that he was deeply and madly in love with a girl who I knew was at best a serial flirt and at. It was touching the way he still called him ‘cutie’, as from the first days they fell in love. And altho Woolie pretended he didn’t like being called like that, being the badass he was, he always fell for it like a sucker. “Really Quetzal, you shouldn’t call me like that. And on the soul of King Glazer I wish one day you’ll set away your pride and let some dumbass k** win so you can pass on that chess title and we can all have some peace around here.” Quetzal thought it wise not to comment on. A slight turn to this dial, he mused, would only make things worse for the citizenry — and better for him by extension. He could cause a huge thunderstorm to cover the entire city, flooding the streets. And then, just as suddenly, stop it with no real break in the temperature. That would be sweet. He called his henchman to join him in the lair. ‘Smedley!’ ‘Yes, sir?’ the drawling henchman called back to him from the top of the stairs. ‘Come down here right away!’ ‘Of course, sir!’ Smedley.
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