Mr. Smith sleeps overnight at the local franchise of the Unique Hotel chain, where "you are Unique, and so is everyone else". One of the distinguishing characteristics of Unique hotels is that each one is exactly the same as all of the others.
An "All-American City" banner hangs across Main Street in Port Truculence, near the Toyota dealership. Across the street from the Toyota dealership there is an old four-story building built with reddish-brown stone. Engraved above the arch is the inscription "Bank of Port Truculence"; a sign just below that reads "Islamic Worship Center". The bank itself is long defunct, having been acquired some time ago by a now forgotten acquirer, who was itself acquired and acquired again thrice over. If you need cash, there's a Bank of America ATM at the Port Truculence Outlet Mall.
Some towns in Middle America evoke faded grandeur -- grand Victorian homes on the boulevard now hosting nail salons, adult bookstores and the like. Port Truculence, on the other hand, gives the impression that there never was much here to begin with. Located on a loop of the great Minniwickamookamac River -- "Adopted Nephew of Waters" to the local Native Americans -- settlers to Port Truculence soon discovered that the Minniwickamookamac had moved on and left the town stranded with an oxbow lake. This was less than useful as a port, upon which the local farmers depended to sell stuff down river.
Mammoth Tractor Company -- "if you need a small tractor, buy a Mammoth" -- settled here in the 1880s and expanded rapidly thanks to the American entrepreneurial spirit, ingenuity and generous defense contracts. Port Truculence is a company town through and through -- from the vintage Mammoth tractor on display before City Hall, to the omnipresent "I Work for Mammoth" bumper stickers, denizens of Port Truculence wear their love of all things Mammoth on their sleeves.
Port Truculence is also a hash town, as Mr. Smith discovers at the local diner. It's a busy morning at Harry's Hash House -- most of the booths are full of people wearing bright red "I work for Mammoth" tee-shirts, so Mr. Smith sits at the counter.
He peruses the menu, then asks the waitress "Can I have some scrapple and applesauce?"
Instantly, the room is silent. Mr. Smith looks around. Everyone in the room is staring at him.
The waitress leans on the counter and looms. "Honey", she says menacingly. "This is a Hash House. You want that stuff you go and eat somewhere else."
The guy sitting next to him at the counter chimes in. "And we don't like no scapple-loving out-of-towners around here, neither".
"OK, OK!", says Mr. Smith. "I was just asking".
Meanwhile, back in Beauneville, Mary Bloom admires herself and her new outfit in the mirror. She thinks "Sexy Maid" will appeal more than "Schoolgirl". At least to some customers.
