Patch the Punk’s twenty-year-old Honda Civic finally conked out, and the repair bill totaled $1,729.47. He had to borrow the money from his father, who expected him to pay back every penny with interest. Sure. Patch vows to leave town for good, maybe move to the West Coast and start his dream job: product tester at a marijuana dispensary, nyuk nyuk nyuk.
Yuck. He can’t even afford cough syrup from the dollar store, much less enough gas to drive around the block. But if he liked country music, he would probably still live in poverty. And have much worse taste.
Copyright © 2019 by David V. Matthews