My parents don’t like me going to Fucker’s Pond because of its known reputation as a rowdy party-spot, I just don’t tell them when we go. It’s...about a five-mile ride out, but we have the whole day and nothing better to do.“Glad you could hang-out with us today,” Jeff tells me.“Yeah, what the hell, dude? How many hours do they have you working?” Marc asks.“About four days a week, the Pizza Depot owner also owns Fairlawn Apartments and I’ve been helping with painting work on the side.”“You gotta. ‘That’s one of ’em,’ Carol observed. It was late evening in the swamp. Just a little daylight was left as they extended the gravity ramp. The creature started to slide off the log where it had been sleeping, but Earl was too fast for it, hitting it with the neuralizer. They transported the alligator into the security of an isolation cell. The humid air in the swamp was glowing green and yellow until they shut off the gravity ramp. As they started to depart on their next search, Carol spotted a. More

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