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The view entering the downtown area from the west was… dramatic. Mr. Back, sorry, *Dr.* Back directed us to a smok’n bar and grill he claimed he owned, where we could finally get our dogs and rejuvenate. We’d been saved from leftover gravy and jam and whatnot by a mystery shooter.

It’s actually here we encounter Ashley. And Clyde, Big Loop complete. Because Clyde correspondingly brought Steelton back to Goldsboro, saving us a trip. We meet in the middle, which is nowhere. He’d just killed our Uncle Roy, who was ankle deep from the top down in the steel stealing crinimal matrix. He was even eating Roy’s leftovers he stole from his fridge just before we showed up, on a break between dough rolling. “Roller,” he said about his profession. “Rock’n it,” he added, which I assumed meant he was good at his job. He then beat the roller mercilessly against the dough a couple of times, smoothing out some rough spots I supposed. But, gazing into those steely eyes, I could see him doing the same with the inevitable bumps on someone’s head, the ones they use for soothsaying in phrenology. Clyde didn’t believe in any psychic bullshit. He was down to earth, meat and potatoes, what you see is what you get. He could have been a good mechanic if he wasn’t a better killer.

“I have a question,” W. said from the side, playing my wife Wanda Wannabe in the current scenario. Mother of 11 year old Tommy and 6 1/2 year old Junior, the “wee one” they called him because he always seemed to need to. “Junior, we *just* left the bathrooms at the service station,” was a common utterance during trips in the Wannabe car, being repaired with 2 wheels removed to bring it back down to the normal 4. Back saw to that — felt guilty for shooting them in the first place. Or have Bobby Carter the mill boy do it. Cousin of Clyde, I believe. All in the Family. Speaking of which…

“Wait… me now. What’s the connection between Goldsboro PA and Mortons Gap KY?”

“Well… Back,” I answered with some confidence. “And Place.”

“Place of eating or place of worship?”

It was here I realized the name of the bar and grill we were sitting at was M and J. But it was also described as a place of grace: “M & J’s Place of Grace.” Do they worship food? Anyway, this was 2 places at once we were in. I knew Firesign Theatre was involved again, because we also weren’t anywhere atall, neither here nor there.

Gunslinger Bobby Carter walked into the establishment. We all knew who this was now. He went up to Clyde and kissed him full on the lips, a new and different twist to the old kissing cousins trope.

(to be continued)

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0036, 0303, Corsica, Kentucky, Northwest^, Pennsylvania

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