To reach his client in Port Truculence -- home of Mammoth Tractor Company -- Mr. Smith drives West from Lake City across the prairie in his rented Belchfire sedan.
For the first hour or so out of Lake City, the Interstate is lined with corporate office buildings once occupied by sub-prime mortgage lenders, and now occupied by government subsidized "green energy" firms. Beyond the corporate offices, there are vast tracts of speculative subdivisions, at least some of which appear to be occupied.
There is an outlet mall at Pipsqueak, plus a Big Box store and a selection of one each of every restaurant franchise currently on the market. Mr. Smith drives on.
About ten miles past Pipsqueak, the commercial development fades and there are fields of corn, rye and sorghum as far as the eye can see. Mr. Smith remembers seeing pictures of America's farm country in fourth grade Geography class -- brightly painted Mammoth brand tractors towing plows across fields of grain, barns and silos in the background. Oddly, those pictures omitted the XXX Adults Only Superstore and the Off-Track Betting Facility in West Bilirubin.
Arriving in Port Truculence after a three-hour drive, Mr. Smith sets out for Harry's Hash House, the famous eatery where you can have anything you like as long as it's hash.
A brief phone call home to say hello to Mrs. Smith, and to Roderick -- who is once again playing Figaro with Molly. Mr. Smiley, Clothilde and little Alexander are visiting with Mrs. Smith.
Meanwhile, Mary Bloom looks at herself in the mirror. She's considering a new look.
