The naval battle was sure to be a summer blow out. That’s what Henge and Ed Groat figured, anyway.
“Summer’s like a leaky canoe,” Ed said on the banks of Lake Me. “Somebitch needs to be fiberglassed over,” he said. “Sealed up.”
Ed looked into his coffee mug the morning of the battle. Nothing but a brown residue, and a pungent burnt smell
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