Saturday 1:00 PM, In the El Camino

Gil

The El Camino is a beautiful car. Most people wouldn't agree with me. They would say it looked like someone had squished a pickup truck. It had been my father's pride and joy in the early seventies, and the fact that it still ran as well as it did was a testament to how well he took care of it. The paint was that glossy dark gold that looks a bit too much like the color of dried vomit. My father has moved on to newer and faster cars, so the El Camino is mine now, and there is something beautiful about that.

I can tell that Leisl was among the doubters of the El Camino's prowess. Oh well, no accounting for taste. She shoots a sour look at the car before climbing in a giving me a smile.

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Leisl

Gil calls me up and informs me that some seriously weird shit has gone down, and I should come meet Ted with him, so that we might explore the fucked-up-ness of the situation together. I say, sure, whatever.

A couple of hours later he shows up in his baby-shit brown El Camino. And promptly informs me "Fritz got busted."
"Figured that would sooner or later," is all I can think of to say.
"I was betting on later."
"Hmmm. So this has Ted pretty freaked out?"
"Well, he was there at the time. I guess we won't really know until we see him. If he is in convulsions the situation is not good."

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Who's where

Ted

Fritz

Lindsay