“They ain’t really going through with this,” Tom said. “Are they?” The pig smell intensified, driving off more pleasant fumes of paint and honest sweat. “First the casino. Then the amusement park. Now a rocket?” He chuckled. “Won’t you crazy townies never learn?”
“This is different. This will really put Thornhope on the map.” Anthony turned back to his work. “The whole town is pitching in.” He finished outlining the final T and selected a sash brush from his tool belt. The brush’s upper portion was crusted but the tips were flexible enough. He dipped it into black paint.
“What about materials?”
“Folks are donating–”
“And what about the rocket? Where you gonna get that?”
Anthony licked his lips, trying not to lose concentration. “There’s talk about that old silo on your property–”
“My silo!” Tom laughed hard and slapped his thigh. “What in hellfire makes you think a bunch of morons and a queerball crossdresser can launch a silo to Mars?”
Anthony rolled his eyes. This was exactly the attitude he hoped to escape. “Who’s to say we can’t?”
Rated PG. Contains impossible science and a skyward thrust.
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