The Weenerman reaches into the cooler and hands me the remaining cans of murky green pop. The mushrooms are placed in the cooler and Weenerman slides the cooler into the cab of the truck. The Weenerman then slides in behind the steering wheel and moktions for Twisty to hop in on the other side.
"Why Thank You," Twisty smiles at Weener, "Much olbliged, she says just short of a blush.
"All in a day’s work," WeenerMan explains generously.
The Weenerman starts the engine and goes to put the buck-truck into gear.
"Hey, Wait!" I start to protest, "It’s my truck!"
The Weenerman holds a hand up motioning for patience, "Delicate gourmet fungals in need of prompt attention," he advises.
And with that the Weenerman drops the Buck-truck into gear and the truck goes grinkding down the road. I see the tailgate disappear in a cloud of gravel dust thrown up from the berms of clover County.