He turned on Morris Trail and drove to Buckhead Lodge. He was stopped at the gate by an old man who introduced himself as “Uncle Evil.” He was ski...ny, had long gray hair, a shaggy beard, and reminded me of Jerry because he was so creepy. He grinned when he saw me in the motorhome.Uncle Evil wasn’t completely naked. He wore a leather harness that made him look a little like a pirate if the pirate’s grey-pubes and tiny dick were exposed. He checked Mike’s reservation and told him where to park. As I sipped it, I heard a husky voice. “Hello again.” “Hello Gaynor,” I said, looking up as she arrived at our table. She had changed clothes and was now dressed in tight-fitting beige jeans and a patterned shirt which was bow-tied under her ample chest, revealing a toned midriff and a ruby jewel in her navel. “You’ve come to a good spot to eat, especially if you like fish.” “Ah yes, I never got the chance to tell you, did I? We’ve been here many times, so I know all about the local. More

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