"I can never get this shit past 65 without it making
like it's going to blow up. And as a consequence, I can never catch
runaway garbage trucks with dead bodies in the back. And that, indeed,
is a fucking travesty," he concluded with an air of resignation.
Two and a half minutes elapsed and then they passed
another green highway sign. It said Nogales 172 miles.
"Jesus God and the heavenly host," exclaimed Schlitz.
"We're never going to get there!"
Needless to say, the cocktail that The Doctor had
prepared for his newest employees was serving its purpose and then
some.
The remainder of the journey to Nogales lasted about
three hours, and no stops were made. Schlitz had turned on the radio
and found a station that was playing rock and roll music made in the
1970's, and proceeded to sing along
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loudly badly with every song regardless of whether he knew
the lyrics or not. Fair Harrington continued the crucial task that
he'd been assigned, tallying eleven states in three hours, including
but not limited to: Arizona, California, Colorado, New Mexico, Mexico
(not a state, but Schlitz said it counted), Utah, Nevada, Ohio, New
York, Florida, and one other. If you can believe it he did not, in
three hours time, come across a single plate from Maryland.
Nogales was a lot more decent a town than Fair
was expecting. It actually had a Denny's, and a couple of other buildings.
Pretty nice. Actually it was a lot shittier than he was expecting.
It had also started to rain. The drops hitting the
top of the car sounded to him like a locomotive engine or the hull
of a great ship plowing through ocean waves.
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