Napoleon’s rule had bequeathed good roads and cobbled streets to France, but over time the municipalities responsible for the upkeep of same had bee... negligent in their stewardship. Potholes were ignored, and cobblestones, frequently ripped up and used as missiles in the many and frequent disturbances the French are prone to, not replaced.Consequently travelling by coach was uncomfortable and seemingly never ending.I looked at my pocket watch. “We should be at the quayside in about four hours,. If you're underage, don't read it, if your overage don't read it, blah blah blah. Also, this story was inspired by a drawing I found. Following is a link to it, but I do not claim to have drawn it! I don't know who the actual artist is, but I'm not taking credit for it. I only wrote this story, I didn't draw the picture. THIS IMAGE MAY NOT BE SAFE FOR WORK, AND SOME MAY FIND IT OFFENSIVE. IF YOU FOLLOW THIS LINK, I DISAVOW ALL RESPONSIBILITY. . You must be Wil," he said, sticking out his hand.It was Mac McDuff and his handshake was commanding and dominant. Picture the Marlboro Man but bigger (six four, two hundred fifty pounds of pure muscle), stronger, more handsome and more rugged with cold gray eyes that could twinkle when he wanted them to. And the Marlboro Man was a pretty boy model. Mac had made a billion dollars starting as a high school drop out when he was fourteen. He was brilliant and ruthless.I was glad I'd paved the way. The troop loaded up in the cars and vans and headed back to the scout camp.I had the scouts play flashlight tag after dinner. We did a campfire with skits and a story by Mr. Clark before the scouts went to bed. Sunday morning we made breakfast, packed up and headed for home.After lunch I gave Ed a call. "Hey Ed, how are you doing?" I asked when he answered the phone."A little better, Kyle," Ed answered quietly."Do you want to get together this afternoon?" No, I need to rest this afternoon," Ed.