Opening my eyes, I waited for a moment as I heard nothing but silence then sound of rushed footsteps. The door opened and I was stunned to find who ha... answered it. It was not her brother or her father or her boss, this man was someone whom I had never met before. He glared down at me since he was a good few inches taller them my six-foot height. “Who the hell are you kid and what the hell do you want here?” not a question more of a demand.Clearing my throat, I calmly stated that I was in fact. 'Good night was it?' he asked 'Nah' I said 'Was pretty dire and was full of couples''Oh' he said 'a good looking guy like yourself? Not going home with a hot man tonight eh?'I thought to myself 'ffs is everyone gay in this dam town?'I replied 'Nah no one was really my type, if you're into 18 year old camp over the top queens, then yeah I guess you'd be getting laid tonight, but I'm not I'm into real men''What do you mean by real men?' he asked.I replied 'As in over 50 bear/daddy types, hairy. ’ As we were leaving I overheard my Mother apologizing to my Aunt, and to my surprise my Aunt cut her short and told her there was no need to — she was as unhappy as we were at this little worm bilking his congregation — his new congregation, mind you — for all they were worth. And what would happen if this cocky little shit were to cultivate a congregation full of devout followers? Why, we all know the answer to that, don’t we? The bilking would quickly become outright financial rape, ladies. "Must be close to 80. Worked in the mill, but he ran a trap line on the side for maybe twenty years, all with a dog team, and gave it up about the time snow machines got popular. Jim Horton. You know him?" The Jim Horton that's on the village council?" Mike asked. Lindquist nodded, and Mike went on, "Sure, I know him. He's in the book." What book is that?" George asked."Oh, right after the Warsaw fire, I got the wild hair that I might be able to write a book about the fire and sell it, so I.