Fallout (Crank 3)

a whole helluva lot better.

At least until I go inside,

only to overhear Dad on

the phone. You can’t be

serious, Marie. We’ve

discussed this a dozen

times. … Stop yelling at

me, please. Of course I

understand. I’m not stupid….

See? The minute I walk in

the door, they’re arguing.

There goes my nice little

buzz. I sneak past Dad’s

office into the kitchen. Sex

and stress—not to mention

weed—make a guy hungry.

And thirsty. I consider

snagging a beer, but Dad’s

already in a snit. Better stick

with a sandwich and root beer.

GOOD PLAN

Dad comes into the kitchen

while I’m still slopping

mayonnaise on the bread.

Hunter! Didn’t hear you

come in. He reaches into

the fridge for one of the three

remaining Miller Lights.

“You were on the phone.

So what’s up in Vegas?”