The Weener-man’s sense of smell turns out to be accurate, for on the other side of the feild, in a mowed-out spot sits a sign with a flashing arrow that says, "BIG BBQ-R TODAY."
And on the other side of the road, along a long white board fence, are parked cars fromall over this end of the Township, and the surrounding area as well.
"Uncle Heinrich must have a new version of his BBQ-Rub he wants to try out," Twisty remarks.
"Really, I thought he just liked to have cook-outs," I reply.
"That too," Twisty admits, "But test-marketing and taste-testing done rofessionally gets expensive, and Uncle Heinrich has found out that the people in the TownShip are more than ready to comment on the product; and come back for more on the next BBQ-Day."
"I can care less about testing anything right now," HM WeenerMan intercedes, "I’m starving."
"You’re always in a state of starvation," Twisty scolds the Weener-Man.
"Imprinted from my younger days," HM Weenerman nods, "I’m going off to find some pork chops; Now."
Twisty shrugs, "That’s the Weener-man for you. I’d better go look up my Uncle. Find out how we’re doing all this."
Just the the Rodney-Mobile makes a very uncharecteristic moan from somewhere under the hood, Twisty loks concerned, "sounds like Rodney doesn’t feel very well, you’d better be taking care of the vehicle, it’s our ticket home remember."
And with that, Twisty walks off toward the Big House to find her Uncle, leaving me with a recalcitrant VW in my care.
I look up, and find that Twisty has us parked under a big, willow tree.
At least I’d have shade. I grin as I open the trunk on the car, shade-tree mechaniciking.