They flicked back and forth between Nadia and myself. She wiped at the spittle on her lip. “I will remember this, piss drinker!”“Bring it, bitch...” I snarled, energy pumping through me. She hissed and then whirled around and marched off, combat boots kicking up grass.“Fuck me,” I muttered, my arm throbbing. “She's going to be a problem.”“Yeah, no shit,” said Nadia. “Damn, your arm looks bad.”She unbuttoned my cuff and rolled up my sleeve with care. She revealed three scratches that furrowed. “Agggggghhhhhhh” again, stronger. “Dude—you ok”? “Ahhhhh fuck---dude, can I hop on a 4-wheeler”? “Ya dawg—sure--whatever” replies Dustin. Johnny hops on one of the quads, and bolts uphill, towards the bath house. “What the fuck is up with him”? I asks openly. A couple of shrugs of shoulders, and facial expressions, then Dustin offers, “Ahhh—I bet he goin up there to blow out his guts” !“Huh”? Several of us ask. Dustin continues, now snickering, “Well, dude got 15 loads in his ass now—I don't. More

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