This story follows both parts of How to Get a Girl's Attention. There are a couple spoilers from the earlier story.

It's also based on a true story. Really closely based on a true story. Let's just say names were changed.

- - - - - -

Jenny Sue came up to me and hugged me tight before whispering in my ear, "Chris, can you do me a favor?" Then she goosed me gently and headed back to chopping onions.

My name is Chris Christiansen and I'm not delusional. Doing favors for your wife, particularly when she's carrying your child, are simply what's expected of any man who actually wants to remain married, avoid child support, and generally keep his danglies intact. But Jenny Sue isn't the kind who just asks me for a favor. She regularly presents me with an itemized and cross-referenced honey do list and upon receipt of said list I just come to attention, salute and head out to get it done. Trust me, it's easier that way. And it's not like Jenny Sue doesn't work hard herself. We'd just bought a new bungalow, had a room to get ready for the baby and a whole lot other stuff you expect when you start a family. We were busy. In fact, the biggest problem was getting her two kids to shoulder their part of the load. Oh they were excited about their new rooms and all, but we'd also changed schools and even when you upgrade that never sets very well with the young 'uns. So I stood up and got ready for my marching orders.

"You remember Lacey Chambers don't you?"

I searched my memory for an image but drew a major blank. "Can't say I do."

"Sure you do! Lacey came to our wedding. She was the honey blonde with the pierced nipples and the see through blouse."

Well, that did clear my memory a bit even if piercings aren't exactly rare in our combined social circle. Her friend Ellen once came over to show us her new clitoral hood piercing and dropped her pants right in the living room so we'd get a good view. Lacey was a petite little honey blonde who dressed for attention, another not-exactly rare trait. She worked at the mill with Jenny Sue, and had gotten divorced a little over a year ago. That was about all I knew about her. If you're the person getting married you often have a hard time getting a paragraph in sideways with your best friends, let alone the new folk. I remember shaking her hand and I remember her nipples, which were pretty hard to ignore between the rings and the thin fabric. "I think I remember her."

"Of course you remember. You're a guy! Guys always remember tits first. She wants to go out to a friend's farm this weekend and pick up some manure. Said she'd give us all we want for our garden if you took my truck out and filled it."

"Jenny Sue, we're new in this neighborhood. What do you think the neighbors are going to think if their dinner hour gets spoiled by the scent of fresh poop from our yard?"

"They'll get over it quickly when they taste the tomatoes I plan to bribe them with from our garden. I couldn't put one in back at the apartment, but I'll have you know I grow a great garden."

I believed her. In addition to her ability to out-kink almost anyone, Jenny Sue had a green thumb. Our apartment had always been full of green, happy plants. Now we had a nice yard, and I'd rented a roto-tiller to get the garden ready for her. We could save a ton on fresh vegetables this summer. More importantly, no tomato or sweet pepper is ever better then fresh picked. If Jenny Sue's outdoor thumb matched her indoor talents, we'd end the summer eating like kings. Suddenly the scent of fertilizer seemed like a small down payment.

The only snag was her truck. It was an old, old Chevy S-10 she'd bought used during her first marriage. It had been a darned good truck but in dog years it should have died years ago and was really starting to show its age. We'd planned to replace it but with our marriage, house-hunting and the baby on the way there just hadn't been time. Or money. So we kept the truck. But Jenny Sue figured it would make it out to the country and back with a load of dung. The next Friday I tossed a couple of shovels and wheelbarrow in back and went to pick up Lacey Chambers.

Lacey lived in a yellow Cape Cod on the east side decorated in early All-American. It was clean and shiny with a brilliant green lawn and a white-picket fence that looked perfect. She jogged out of the door as I pulled up and gave me a jaunty wave, and hopped right in the car. Understand that Lacey is a very pretty girl, even if this wasn't see-thru Friday. She was a couple inches taller then Jenny Sue (which isn't saying much), with long honey bonde hair, big brown eyes and a light sprinkling of freckles. She wore a white t-shirt tight that hugged her small breasts and a pair of old, tight-fitting jeans which accented her best asset, and you know which asset I mean. Her butt was a little big yet so beautifully rounded you couldn't help want to give her the full Charmin treatment and squeeze.

Now I know what you're thinking. You're thinking I'm no-good dirty old man for ogling up his pregnant wife's friend. And you'd be right. But Lacey Chambers dressed to provoke a guy. Most people don't wear pants you have to wriggle into when they're heading out to shovel shit! Besides my love life hadn't been so good lately. At first pregnancy seemed to make Jenny Sue even hornier, and she's practically a nymphomaniac anyhow. But in the last couple weeks her mood had changed and she kept pushing me away. She told me not to worry, that she always dried up during the third trimester but with another month to go plus recovery from childbirth I knew I'd be depending on my right hand for a long, long time. Still, I do understand the difference between window shopping and stopping to buy.

Which made me uncomfortable. Lacey wanted a reaction, I didn't want to give her one I'd hear about later. We started out with the usual how-do-you-do's and general questions about work and the weather. And then she sat back on on the bench seat and gave a long sigh. "This is going to be a really hard trip."

"Why? We'll be there in about a half hour."

"It's not the trip, it's just that Pete won't be there." And she slumped for a moment and looked away, which somehow told me Pete wasn't ever going to be there again.

"You and Pete were close?"

"Absolutely. He's dommed me for six years now."

It took me a moment or three to process that piece of information. "As in whips and chains and stuff?"

Lacey let out a long laugh and turned and smiled to me. "You mean Jenny Sue never told you about me?"

I didn't say a thing.

Which got Lacey laughing. "Wow, she really has changed! But to clear the air, yes I am a submissive and I do like the rough stuff. "

I must have turned about six shades of red, because Lacey broke out laughing. "Where in the world did Jenny Sue find you?"

"Other side of an apartment parking lot. And I'm impressed to meet someone kinkier then Ellen." We shared a small laugh.

"Ellen's kind of vanilla in an exhibitionist sort of way. But she's fun. I'd play with her in a heartbeat. "

Bi, kinky, a great butt? How was it that Jenny Sue knew all the wild folk?

"But I'd rather have one more time with Pete. He was very skilled and attentive. And a good guy. He'll be missed."

"So who's runnng the farm now."

"Cheryl. Pete's wife. Widow now." And Lacey turned away from me to immerse herself in her own thoughts. Of course I let her. But my mind was burning up with questions. I mean, in all the BDSM porn I'd ever seen or read, and it wasn't a lot, made me realize that sooner or later all that whipping and beating stuff gave way to good, hard fuck. So I kind of figured Lacey and I were driving out to recover poo from the home of a woman whose husband Lacey had been banging for years. Things might get a trifle awkward. Best to stick to shoveling shit, offer my condolences and keep any speculations to myself!

Which I did despite some very colorful speculating. Lacey didn't say much either as she probably had other things on her mind such as where to get herself her next nice beating. I drove where she told me. Pretty quickly we passed a white split-rail fence, a flock of cows chewing and she directed me up a long driveway toward a big house with a really big barn. Only I didn't see any cows or horses. Mostly I saw sheep, which seemed strangely appropriate for the home of the kinky. And then I spotted taller, brown haired animals off to the right. "Is that what I think it is."

"Yeah, they raise llama."

I never knew people raised llama before but then people seem to raise everything nowdays. We pulled up near a modern farmhouse built to resemble the old kind with wraparound porch. . Four people were sitting out back, and only one was a man.

"I see Cheryl," Lacey announced. An nice looking older woman stood up in a red summer dress and waived at us. Lacy waived back. We piled out of the truck and the two women exchanged the kind of intimate hug you reserve for people you actually care about. "Good to see you Cheryl."

"And you Lacey. Who's the stud?"

"This is Jenny Sue's husband Chris."

Cheryl turned her attention to me, and it occurred to me that she looked a lot younger then I had expected. "So you're the guy who changed her mind about marriage."

"What do you mean."

"After her divorce from Mel she swore she'd never marry again. Swore it up and down every time I saw her for six months."

I laughed. "That's the kinda thing you say in the middle of a divorce. I know I've said that myself. Swore a blood oath and everything. But Jenny Sue has a way of getting to you, kind of like water leeching into your basement."

Cheryl laughed and the lines came out of her face. "Nice metaphor. I can see why Jenny Sue likes you. Sorry I couldn't make the wedding but Pete and I had booked our reservations at Hedonism a year out and couldn't change them.

"What's Hedonism?" As I asked that I could see eyebrows coming up all around.

Cheryl cocked her head toward Lacey. "Are you sure he's married to Jenny Sue?"

"Positive."

"Has she clued him in?"

"We are talking about Jenny Sue."

Cheryl laughed again. "Well people change."

"Not that much," said Lacey. "This is the guy she and Ellen attended that concert with."

"The one where Ellen blew that singer right on stage? That was a great video! And he is quite the naughty boy from what I hear."

I realized I'd been sold out. Since modesty was out of the question I decided to fit in if I could. "So you and Ellen have been talking."

Cheryl responded by smiling at me and wiggling her hips. And she was pretty. Granted Cheryl was pushing sixty and some things that had been pointed north were headed south if you know what I mean, but clearly this was one woman the granny-porn people would love to have on retainer. "Hedonism is kind of resort. Some people wear clothes. Some people don't."

"Which group were you."

Cheryl smiled at me and inspected me like I was some sort of pork chop. "Definitely naked." It was at that point I figured she knew very well that Lacey and her husband had been making the sign of the beast with two backs and didn't care. "Chris, let me introduce you to the rest of the crowd. She pointed out a slender woman with granny glasses and hair the color of a copper crayon. "This is my sister Marsha, and these are our friends Ted and Alice." Cheryl gestured at a couple in their thirties sitting nearby sipping beer. He was a tall guy with a thin black mustache, thinner hair and beer gut that stuck out on his otherwise narrrow body. She was a zaftig brunette with some curves and pleasant smile. They both nodded at me as we exchanged the traditional superficial pleasantries before Lacey and I headed out to gather poo.

Unfortunately, the large manure pile we'd expected did not exist. I'd expected to sink my shovel into a pile and create a trench until the truck was full. Worse, we started amongst the sheep. Now the thing about sheep is that they go everywhere, and in little pellets. Step anywhere and you'll probably hit sheep poop. But only one pellet's worth. It didn't take very long to figure out that we could be there all day and not gather very much fertilizer. We poked around for a while before I suggested we move over to llama land.

That worked a lot better. While sheep like to spread out in their toilet habits, llama turned out to be entirely different. Llama poop is kind of interesting, its like each llama has a little melon ball scoop up his ass and poops out little dark brown perfectly round balls. Not wanting to soil the entire pasture, each llama sort of picks his own spot and squats there, so the little balls tend to pile up in handy little cones. Plus they did have a few conglomerations of picked up llama dung mixed with straw from pen cleaning. Over time the effects of wind and rain seemed to draw the poo together so a determined man could get his shovel in and dig out a rich vein of shit. And so it went until we had about 15 feed bags loaded to the brim with the brown stuff. Cheryl called Lacey inside while I loaded the bags into Jenny Sue's truck. Then I went inside to clean off, kicking off my shoes before I stepped inside.

Lacey called up from the basement and called me down. She and Alice were engaged in one of the unfortunate tasks that always accompanies a death, the division of the dead guy's stuff. Turns out Pete had quite a tool collection if your purpose is sin. I don't know what you know about BDSM but from what I saw becoming a well-heeled domme is really damned expensive. I've seen sex shops with less stock! I have never seen so many dildos in my life including one about the size of my forearm. He had harnesses and strap ons, a violet wand and a collection and whips and floggers the Marquis de Sade might have envied. And a deflated love doll. Basically, if it's perverted Pete had one.

And they we thinking of me. "I've got a box of porn over there," said Cheryl. "I figured you're a guy so you'll want some. Take anything you want except Behind the Green Door, because I really like that one." As the last couple weeks had gotten kinda dry and I knew it would take Jenny Sue a while to get her snap back after the baby I was definitely interested in some visual aids. Old Pete had a lot of porn there and of every kind you could ask for. He had anal porn, oral porn, bukkake, golden showers, strap-ons, snap-ons and girls fucking guys. He even had midget porn! I even saw one film with the heart-warming title Fifty Guy Cream Pie. I sorted through it discovering perversions too wild even for Ellen. I finally found one featuring a starlet I found particularly hot and the socially acceptable "Anal Sorority 2". I figured what Jenny Sue didn't know wouldn't hurt her. Maybe four or five would be okay with Jenny Sue. Besides, I knew she'd want to watch them with me anyway. Might even bring her libido back for a visit.

While I was leafing through about a hundred videos looking for something that might actually turn on both me and Jenny Sue, Lacey and Alice were dividing up the toys as Cheryl herself was the sort who preferred a hard fuck to a nice beating. Lacey reached out to pick up a dildo, I think it was an oversized purple schlong with balls when Alice snatched it away and clutched it to her chest like a baby. "Oh, I remember this one. It was the very first dildo Pete fucked me with."

Lacey just shrugged, let it go then reached for a double-header about as big around as a horse.

Alice pouted like six year old. "Pete bought that specially for me. He gave me my first double penetration with that dildo."

Lacey and Cheryl exchanged eye rolls but said nothing, while Alice started laying claim to all the really good stuff in the closet. It seemed like Pete had bought all the good stuff personally for Alice while his other subbies like Lacey had to make do with sloppy seconds. I decided this was a good time for me to leave and Cheryl left about the same time. I didn't want to get in the middle of what might be a brewing cat-fight as Lacey started giving Alice the Evil Eye after the tenth toy grab. Not that I blamed her. As we came up the stairs Marsha came over and handed each of us a beer "I figure you need one after dealing with Alice."

I didn't actually need one, but shovelling shit does make a fellow thirsty. Marsha handed me a cold one and batted her eyes at me even though she was about thirty years older then I am. "So hows it going up there?"

Cheryl shrugged. "Alice is making a major land grab."

"I knew it! Pete told me only last week she was getting too possessive."

"How do you think I feel. He was my husband!"

"Go tell her to get lost!"

Cheryl sighed and leaned back against the wall. For the first time I really saw how tired she was. "Sis, it's not worth it. If Alice wants to get all grabby now let her. Stuff is just stuff."

"Yeah, but I just can't believe she'd be coming in her grabbing all Pete's stuff like that. Lacey's been doing Pete a lot longer then she has, and been a much better friend!"

"She isn't grabbing all of Pete's stuff. Just stuff I don't need anymore. Let it go." Cheryl patted her sister's shoulder then headed outside to sit on the porch Marsha stayed inside with me, and I could smell on her breath that she'd had a few more then her widowed sister.

"Look at her go in like that. Thirty years she and Pete were together. Thirty Years! And that girl comes along like she owns the place. I ought to go down there and give her a piece of my mind. And she doesn't even have a job!" She looked around and glowered down the stairs, the relaxed and turned back to me.. "So how long have you and Lacey been keeping house?"

"Lacey's not my girl. I married Jenny Sue McCormick."

Marsha's eyes lit up and she smiled at. "Why you old dog? So you bagged Jenny Sue. You ought to bring her around for one our parties out here. Guy like you would have a real good time." And she winked at me telling me just what kind of party it would be and indicating she might be one of the first in line for a Taste of Chris. I realized I'd fallen in with a den of swingers, one of whom might be my wife.

"So are you married or anything."

"Hell no. My first husband knocked the crap out of me, and I haven't let myself get tied down to a man ever since. Frankly, it's really hard to find a good one, one who actually works and still wants to fuck you."

I looked at her. Marsha wasn't so pretty as Cheryl but at her age she held up well. "Is it that hard?"

"Sure is. My last boyfriend didn't even want me to dress for him. He just wanted to wear my dresses and have me strap one on and fuck him up the ass!"

Now that painted a picture I could have lived without. "How'd you feel about that."

"Pretty good once I shoved it in!" And Marsha thrust her hips in a way which suggested she handn't been gentle. Of course I've been known to get caught up in the moment myself. Still I let Marsha ramble on for a while until she tired out and suggested we go sit on the porch with Cheryl and Ted.

"So what do you do Chris?" asked Cheryl.

"I represent an construction equipment supply company. Been there five years now."

"Construction equipment," said Ted, nodding his head in agreement.

"Do you like it?"

"I do, it was frustrating at first but now that the economy is starting to straighten out things are picking up. My boss says he may give me a company truck if things pick up, and frankly that's an old truck we have. It would be a real benefit now that we have a new house and a baby on the way. "

"Baby on the way," said Ted.

Cheryl and Marsha harmonized their reply. "A baby! Jenny Sue is pregnant!"

"Seven and a half months," I announced.

"Seven and a half months," said Ted.

Of course my remark set of a whole storm of feminine (and my!) rejoicing over our little bundle of joy and did very little to cover my realization Ted had the conversational skills of a parrot. On the other hand, he could in fact hold a job which did elevate him above his sex-toy grubbing wife even if she clearly wore the pants in their family. Still, it bugged me that I always knew what Ted was thinking because he really wasn't thinking at all. Nonetheless the evening was shaping up nicely when Alice came up the stairs dragging a big bag of dildos, harnesses, wands, handcuffs and other naughty bits. Lacey came up a second later dragging a smaller bag of toys, but it did include that one monstrous dildo. I examined it through the clear fabric while she pitched the bag into the bed along with our feedbags full of poo. Curiosity got the better of me so I asked her what she planned to do with it as she'd clearly never get it inside.

Lacey just laughed, saying: "It will be fun trying!"

And so we said our goodbyes to Cheryl, Marsha, Ted and Alice and the the sheep and llama out there at the swingers farm. Lacey was in a mood to talk though, mostly about Alice, describing all the strategems Alice used to glom onto everything expensive. Including the violet wand, the one thing Lacey really wanted. But at least she'd behaved like an adult in her covetousness. As had I, walking away with only seven or eight pornos which I had stashed behind the seat. After a while she settled down to just riding and driving, and we turned into town and rolled through the streets towards Lacey's house when our evening took a turn for the dark. We were sitting at stop light when Jenny Sue's old truck stalled and then went dark. I mean completely dark, as in not even the flashers would light.

Lacey hopped out of the truck, and started talking to me. I yelled at her to get out of the street while I fiddled with the now useless starter. I could see headlights in the mirror behind me, and didn't want Lacey turned into the world's kinkiest pancake. Fortunately, the guy behind me was thinking despite it being a Friday night. He hit his flashers, got out and helped us push the truck around the corner into the first open space we could find.

That was when I first heard the organ. Then the choir. The truck had chosen to die right where it could reasonably expect the Last Rites. We'd just pushed a truck carrying 500 pounds of fragrant llama shit and a bag full of dildos right in front of the Immaculate Conception Catholic Church (original Latin rite). And guess which Friday it was? My luck held as it was Good Friday! The church was packed full of worshippers remembering the crucifixion and suffering of Christ. I realized that somebody up there must have really wanted a big belly laugh at my expense, perhaps for the sin of consorting with perverts. Not wishing a rapid death for stinking and moral turpitude I reached for my cell phone and dialed Jenny Sue.

"What's up?" she said and I could hear my step-daughter complaining about something in the background.

"The truck broke down."

"Where are you?"

"Right outside the world's biggest Catholic Church loaded to the brim with fertilizer and sex toys."

"Whaaaat?"

"You heard me. Lacey and I need a quick rescue here. I don't think these people like stinky perverts and we surely are that."

"Stinky perverts eh? I can't wait to hear this one. Let me see if I can get ahold of Ellen. She's got that big pickup."

"You know it's a Friday night." I didn't need to mention that Ellen has never been known for her temperance, or for that matter any other form of restraint, except maybe for the kind Lacey likes.

"Ellen has her kids this weekend. I'll have her drop them here on her way over. If Ellen falls through I'll find someone else."

I hung up and began to examine the bed. There wasn't much light but the gorilla-sized naturally veined-dildo was clearly bulging in the toy bag. As were the padded handcuffs and giant-red strap-on. I thought I could see reflections off the metal bits too in the moonlight. Inside the church I could hear everyone singing laments and gongs being struck. I prayed Ellen would be home, sober and able to get here before the church let out.

Naturally Murphy was with us. Jenny Sue did call back quickly to tell me Ellen was on her way, then Ellen called to ask for directions. I handed my phone over to Lacey and the two of them got into talking and laughing about the sex toy grab while I just leaned up against the truck with my gaze turned skyward.

It was right then that the church let out. I heard the doors pushed open and throngs of candle-bearing Christians headed out and to converge on the parking lot, many of whom passed right by our truck. Most didn't look twice, but I did get one dirty look, and a wide eyed matron shooing her children away.

Then a bunch of teenage boys walked by. The mimed holding their noses, but they were definitely ogling Lacey and for a moment I thought she'd prove distracting enough they wouldn't look too hard at our cargo. It almost worked, particularly with her leaning butt out against the truck. But the last of them, a scrawny kid, caught a look as well as a whiff, spun and pointed right at Mr. Monster bulging there in the bag. "Would you look at the size of that!"

No matter how much a teenage boy may dislike the smell of feces the sight of forbidden sex toys always proves a far stronger lure. When mixed with the spring rush of testosterone that only comes in groups teenage boys remind us that really they're only one quick cue away from acting like oversized, oversexed toddlers. This group proved no exception One of them was a strapping lad with short dark hair, a narrow tie and a narrower growth of dark fuzz above his upper lip. He turned right to Lacey, rolled his hips suggestively. "Hey baby."

Lacey wasn't having none of that. She drew up to her full height and stared him right in the eye and told him, "I am NOT your baby, little boy!"

Now that sort of direct response drew a smile from me and set the Beastial Boys back on their heels for a moment. But not for long. After all, we had brought poo and a transparent trash bag full of perverted stuff right in front of their church. The morality angle was right out there allowing them to ogle with Moral Superiority so they took it. The biggest kid, whom I took for a future footballer, took his place and told us "You're going to burn in Hell for your perversions."

That's when I learned that "subbie" is not a synonym for "wimp". Lacey got as close to his face as she could given their height difference. "So says the little boy who can't raise his eyes above my chest! Move on children, it's time for you all to head back to mama." And they just might have had not a man-child gotten involved.

Now this guy was pushing late middle age and wore about the biggest turquoise-encrusted crucifix I'd ever seen, and a set of silver horn-rimmed glasses on a string that complimented his trim gray beard. He didn't seem the slightest bit interested in Lacey. He took one look at the sin bag and his jaw practically fell on his chest before he fell to his knees with arms out raised yelling, "Oh Jerusalem thy whore has come!" He started chanting and wailing. His tirade gave the kids Adult Sanction to follow their instincts, so they started right in with a lot less verse, calling us names and even doing a bit of pushing.

Now we had the full crowd of jostling people, and whatever temptation I had to push back died in the face of sheer numbers. We'd get hurt more then they if things got more physical. Lacey kept exchanging unpleasantries with the loud old dude, and we were the target of many evil stares.

I was never so happy to see Ellen in my whole life.

Ellen drove a big, black raised F-250 with oversized mudders and twin exhaust stacks. It rumbles like a lion on a mad drunk and she drives it with a death wish. She came in with all lights turned to "blind" and horns a honking. She skidded to a stop right next to us, hopped out and stood right on the cab. She had her chin out, and wore black leather jacket and pants, with black tube-top marked only with set of bright red lips. Somehow Ellen's glare got even the Big Cross Chanter to shut up and look. "These are my friends and they're leaving with me! Clear out now or I'l show you my cooter!"

Lacey and I both spun our heads to face Ellen, wondering why she'd ever threaten them with a flashing. Still, with Ellen you never really know. The kids believed her. i wasn't sure I didn't believe her. Still, being flashed wouldn't have been my first choice if I wanted to threaten teenage boys. But we were in front of the Immaculate Conception Catholic Church (original Latin Rite) and these boys were there with their very Catholic parents. Parents who weren't about to allow their young ones any exposure to nekkid girlie bits on the theory that it might made them think about sex.

You kinda wonder if they'd ever been teenagers themselves. But as I was about to become a father it occurred to me that life might be a lot different on the Other Side, especially when it was your kids whose hormones runneth over. But Ellen's fame betrayed her (thanks to an often shared web video of Ellen having Sex on Stage and the torrid two weeks she spent bent over beneath Charlie Sheen. One of the kids yelled "Hey, that's Ellen!" Apparently the guy points one gets ogling a minor celebrity outweighs the trouble caused by doing it in front of your parents.

Thank Heaven the priest arrived. He was older guy, gray-haired with a gray hair comb-over and black horn-rimmed glasses. And he hadn't even taken off his vestments, which didn't hurt his moral authority. "What's going here?" he asked in a quiet, calm voice.

That was my cue. "Father, it's like this. We were hauling a load of fragrant fertilizer and some unusual parts of another friend's estate home when my wife's truck decided to die. Trust me, I would not have chosen for this to happen, and particularly not here. If you'll give us a few minutes of peace, we'll get our fertile cargo out of here."

If we'd gotten a young priest fresh out of seminary we might have been in trouble. But this guy had been around a bit and it showed. "I think we can do that," he announced in his more dynamic Pulpit voice, and turning to face his parishioners.

Shiny Cross Chanter naturally objected. "But Father, they brought sinful objects of lust here, right during Holy Weekend. They're sinners!"

"Tom, we're all sinners As this is Jesus' weekend, I'll answer you with Jesus's words. 'Let he who is without sin cast the first stone'."

Shiny cross didn't have an answer to that so he grumbled under his breath a bit but turned away. So did the rest of the crowd, and though the boys leered actively Mom and Pop led them away with sharp words on the beauty of celibacy. And the priest stayed their to make sure they went. When they were all at their cars he turned back to us and asked. "What happened?"

I started to tell him again that we were carrying manure when the car died but he stopped me. "I heard you the first time. What happened to the truck?"

I said "I don't know. It just plain died. I couldn't even get the flashers to work."

"Probably your battery. You might need a cable too, as I bet they're corroded."

"How do you know that," asked Lacey.

"My child, while I may serve the next world I live in this one. Do you have Triple A?"

"If I'd had AAA I'd have called them instead of Ellen," I said thumbing at our friend in black leather, who was leaning against her roll bar grinning from ear to ear. "Though I'd hoped to haul all this stuff off before church let out."

He laughed. "I'm sure you did!" Then he pointed at the toy bag and asked, "Is this really from a deceased person's estate?"

"He and I were close," said Lacey which was all the explanation anyone needed.

"Well, I suppose one of the perques of St. Peter's job is hearing some interesting tales. Surely this one will rank. Go with God," he said before heading back into the church.

We transferred our load to Ellen's truck and headed home, where the story kept Jenny Sue laughing well into the night, particularly when Ellen told her nudity was probably the greatest threat she had, having left her shotgun at home. The next morning we came back to find someone had spray painted: 'perverts', 'sodomites' and 'Ellen fuckers' all over Jenny Sue's truck in decorative lime green and burning orange. But the priest turned out to be right, it was the battery and with a new ground cable and clean terminals Jenny Sue's truck ran like it was middle aged again. Jenny Sue was pissed at the graffiti at first, but then she ran for her camera so we could take a bunch of pictures before sending it off to Earl Scheib. The guys at the paint shop fell over laughing before they got started on giving the old truck a cheapie.

Six weeks later Jenny Sue with presenting me with healthy son right on time while creating the finest garden I have ever mooched from. When canning time came we took the recently repainted truck over to the Church of the Immaculate Conception (original Latin rite)'s annual canned food drive. The same priest was there. He winked at me as he thanked us for the contribution, telling me he was sure it had been properly fertilized.

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