Chapter One

“Fuck! It burns. But it feels so good.”

Shouted from behind the window of a battered pickup, it did not take Dave long to both regret the decision and masochistically crave more. Had the person in question had more fucks to give they might have considered eating food that didn’t agitate their deeply chapped lips.

But they did not have those fucks.

These fries were eaten as they rolled down a long dirt track. At the end of this track was a barn and property. And in that barn, on that property, is where the story starts. For better or worse.