Somewhere out there in the great wide world, but in Amish country in Pennsylvania…
“Guttertrash” Greg Adkins leans against the side of a general store. No, he’s not in New Intercourse. They wouldn’t let him in. No, he’s leaning against the side of a building somewhere else in a small town that time has forgotten its name.
He’s dressed in jeans and a shirt, though both of these items have seen better days. Tears, bloodstains, and who knows what else dot the outfit that he is wearing. His eyes are half closed as he pulls a bottle in a brown paper bag from another bag at his side. He unscrews the cap and takes a long pull from it before wiping his mouth with the back of his hand with a self satisfied sigh.
The Amish typically frequent this store and here come a quartet of women. Greg puts on his best smile and shouts from where he sits against the building.
Greg Adkins: Hey, honies. Y’all are lookin’ real tired. You want some cocaine I got that’s spiked with caffeine. It will spark you up like no other and you’ll finish your chores lickity split and ride your man the rest of the night!
The women give Greg looks of disgust as they head into the store.
Greg sighs.
Greg Adkins: I know I should give more effort in the idea of defeating Jakie Wentzel, but I cannot seem to bring myself to do so. I will win the day! Okay, not really.