Gloria was waiting impatiently at the door of her silver-colored trailer when Hawkins returned from his camper. She was wearing a man's shirt tied to make a kind of halter and a pair of ragged jeans and boots, her usual around-camp wear. "Well, how'd it go, Henry? Hurry up, tell me!" she urged eagerly. Nearly an hour had passed since he came over here through the wooded thicket to dump that powerful aphrodisiac into the new blonde's drink, and she was beside herself with expectant curiosity.

"She took it like mother's milk," he grinned in the macabre yellow glare of the trailer's outside bulb. "Shouldn't be long now."

"Ooo, I can hardly wait," the mid-thirtyish woman squealed. "Al, hey Al, Henry's back!" she yelled in that sort of hoarse whisper-shout of someone wishing to yell without being heard too far away. A pot-bellied slight balding man in his mid-forties shuffled groggily into view from the battered trailer's tiny bedroom. He was holding an open half-quart can of beer and an unlit cigarette was dangling from his lower lip. It stayed there as he spoke, held in place by the wetness of the beer he'd obviously just finished. "Went like clockwork, huh, Henry?" he inquired, dropping the emptied beer can into a plastic trash can lined with newspaper that was positioned by the bedroom door. "When you think she'll be ready? I wouldn't mind a piece o' her ass myself. Did you see those legs? And tits! Man, she's got a pair like one o' them fold-out girlies."

Gloria glared at him half seriously. "You just shut your mouth, Al Badger. You can't even satisfy the woman you've got, much less go spreading it around."

Henry laughed out loud and his employee's face momentarily flushed. "Shit, Gloria," said the heavier one with the tee-shirt that failed to cover his protruding belly. "It'd take half the men in Canada to satisfy you and you know it."