"BILLY JOE, ARE YOU ABOUT READY TO LEAVE?" Cindy asked, as she put the final touches on her makeup.
"Be ready in just a sec, honey," Billy Joe replied, "me'n and George are watching the rerun of the race we almost won. I can't believe this danged VCR didn't record nothin' but a blur. Guess we wuz just going too fast fer the technology to keep up."
He glanced out the window at his neighbor across the street.
Sam Wilton was high on a ladder with a pressure washer in his hand, hosing down the siding near the top of his trailer. The pressure washer was very loud, and now and then Billy Joe would comment on how he could barely hear the roar of the engines on television.
JorG was sitting on the couch, his green feet legs propped up on the coffee table, with a gigantic slice of pizza in his right hand, and a cold beer in his left. Between bites he now and again mouthed something about the race and about the noise Wilton was making.
Billy Joe suspected it was Stubian cuss words. JorG was still mad that the officials had disqualified their car.
Now and again JorG laid down the pizza and beer, and turned his attention to the small electronic gadget he had in several pieces on the table. It appeared to be the remote control for the television, and it didn't seem to bother JorG that he was getting tomato sauce and beer on the circuit board.
"Hurry up and finish that pizza, hon," Cindy called to JorG, "we've got to be leaving."
"Which car are we taking, Cindy?" Billy Joe asked, "can we drive the race car?'