Chapter 4
The light was just breaking outside the little airport a few miles outside Louisiana.
But "D.W." Smith smiled with pride as he surveyed the sleek lines of his new plane.
Yes, the thing was a real beauty, big enough to hold ten people, and with enough power to cut through a tornado.
Bud chewed tightly on the end of his cigar stub, then spit rudely out of the side of his puffy lips. He unloosened his belt, then tightened it, tucking his flannel shirt snugly between his protruding beer belly and his hand made leather belt.
Yep! Was he in for a good time! He'd waited six months for this chance, and now he was going to take full and complete advantage of it!
But had made arrangements for him and eight of his friends (mostly laborers and farmers from the bucolic Louisiana countryside) to go on a "vacation." It had taken some convincing for each of the men to talk their wives into this, but a few extra cloths and a couple of mink coats had done the trick.
Yeah, boy! Were old Bud and his friends ever going to wup it up! Why, hell, they could land in any airport they wanted, go into town, have a few drinks, find some girls and ...
A huge, powerfully built man got out of his pick-up truck. The tall, blonde giant held a full beer can in his hand. He took the ring of the pull top between his teeth, guzzled the contents of the can in a twinkling of an eye, then smashed the can to a crumpled mass the size of a marble.
"Pretty early in the mornin' to be drinking, Curly," Bud said to the blonde giant.
"Hell, it's never too early," Curly said. "I'm lookin' forward to one hell of a sha-bang! Can't wait to get me some tail!"
"I know what you mean, Curly," Bud replied. "Hey, here comes the rest of the guys."
A formidable-looking pick-up truck containing seven rough and tumble-looking men and one burly driver laid a trail of dust as it peeled down the makeshift dirt road of the tiny airport.
There was a raucous exchange of lewd catcalls and obscene gestures as the men lumbered into the shiny new airplane.
Once inside the comfortable cabin, Curly went straight for the refrigerator and opened the door!
"Wow!" he shouted "Ol Bud's got enough brew here to get an army drunk!"
Yes, Bud had filled all the shelves of his six-foot refrigerator with cold, large cans of fresh beer.
There was a general clatter as each of the men removed a beer and began drinking as if there was no tomorrow.
"All right, boys!" Bud shouted. "Here we go!"
The powerful engine let out a rude roar as the airplane and its "out for kicks" passengers were lifted into the clear, morning sky.