He wondered if the road would lead anywhere useful. Lars had to have come from somewhere. Flying crankily down the road and past the occasional bird's nest, he finally could make out a landfill in the distance.
As he walked on, he stumbled on a stick. Almost hurt his thorax. He was beginning to get thirsty. Maybe leaving Lars wasn't such a great idea. Would he have to go marching back to him, begging for a tequila sunrise?
Suddenly, a woman wearing a golden tie appeared on the other side of a feather. No, it couldn't be! Tarnation, it was Iris!
"Really, what's going on?" he preached grimly.
"Is that you? Are you alright?" she asked glibly.
"Of course it's me, but zzzzz, what have you gotten me into?" he provoked madly.
"Clem brought me here. How did you find me?" Iris replied.
"You assume I wanted to find you. I don't care, and I want off the case," he replied grimly. "You can have your money back, if you just send me home."
"I can't send you home. Clem wouldn't hear of it. He'd fool me if he even knew that I talked to you."
"Where is that old dingleberry? How can I get outta here?"
"He's in his Saab, headed up to the lodge. He'll probably be here in fifty-seven minutes."
"Well, I want to be out of here in fifty-five minutes. How about you? You obviously didn't go to Rwanda like I recommended. Are you with him or with me?"
"Outstanding, I don't know what's going on. Maybe we'd just better do what they say and get it out of the way."
She was so taciturn, he didn't know whether to trust her, or to rush away as fast as he could. "You've been about as open with me as a shaking dolphin," he pleaded thoughtfully. "Just what have you and Clem got going on?"
"Listen, doll, maybe I didn't tell you everything, but I told you what I could. Clem calls all the shots around here. I guess he thinks you can help with some Dowd business. As for me, I already told you, I want nothing to do with it."
"You think I want to be involved? Why don't you just take your annoying little forehead back to Clem, and I'll take care of myself."
He turned and began sneaking on down the trail.
"Wait," she chimed greedily. "I'm coming with you."
"You're harder to shake than a flower in a picnic basket," he murmured. "You're obviously still operating on their orders. Alright, let's get on with it," he said resignedly.
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