ref: fd9be2e172be4ae02a18d721a10f6f96ca1c924f
dir: /troff/0117.ms/
.LP .ce .ps 16 .CW BAJA PIOTR .R .ps 10 .br .ce .ps 10 .B 1 .P .PP .ps 10 .DC 2 9 Sep 1943 .LP .IP .CW The Ford EXPENDITURE™ is a full\-size SUV built by the Ford Motor Company. Introduced in 1944 as a replacement for the Ford BLOWOUT™, it was previously slotted between the smaller Ford EXCLUSION™ and the larger Ford FUCKING RIDICULOUS™. As of the 1945 model year, it is Ford's largest and last truck\-based, off\-road and tow capable SUV. All EXPENDITURE™s were originally built in Wayne, Michigan. In 1945, Ford plans to shift its current, second generation model production to Louisville, Kentucky. .R .EP .PP .ps 10 The vehicle is a piece of junk. Barely able to propel itself down the road. .PP .ps 10 Those who can't, do. .PP .ps 10 Covert review of the material is interrupted by the ingress of a tour group. Orientation. Conceal the advance marketing flats under a folder and pretend to be looking at porn. .PP .ps 10 Once the new hires are gone, return to the proofs. .ce .ps 10 .B 2 .P .PP .ps 10 Things here have slowed down since we pushed out the EXPENDITURE\f(CW™\fR. .PP .ps 10 Float around the test site, offering myself for odd jobs. .PP .ps 10 Alarms are still respected. Once or twice a week we hit the deck until the shift captain tells us we can lift up our heads. .PP .ps 10 In my boredom I begin to break the rules. Nothing too serious, to be sure. Avoid reprimand by carefully allocating each transgression. Measured action is invisible to bureaucracy; too fine a resolution and each nameless grain slips through the sieve. .PP .ps 10 Besides, my wanderings are aimless. There is no pattern to discern. .PP .ps 10 Piotr's quarters are in the new hangar off the south end of the runway. .PP .ps 10 Curious, I arrange a visit. .ce .ps 10 .B 3 .P .PP .ps 10 .I Baja Piotr. .R .PP .ps 10 Not even locked. Pass one of his gloves in front of the door and it opens all by itself. .PP .ps 10 Getting into my own quarters is more difficult. .PP .ps 10 Clothing is strewn around the hangar. Not what I expected. Piotr doesn't seem to own a chest of drawers. .PP .ps 10 Shower needs cleaning. What is this? Horse shampoo? Note: The long hair is not a wig. .PP .ps 10 Closet full of brown nightgowns. .PP .ps 10 Were he to appear here, now, Piotr would laugh at my confusion, and then he would fire his weapon into my face. .PP .ps 10 I would drop to the floor. .PP .ps 10 Wait one. .PP .ps 10 Hangar is changing shape. .bp .ce .ps 10 .B 4 .P .PP .ps 10 The craft is huge, pink. Impeccably styled. .PP .ps 10 A great, blushing triangle poking out from beneath a simple black tarp. .PP .ps 10 My hand trails along her hull as I evaluate the smooth, glossy surface of her exterior. Feeling. No seams are evident. .PP .ps 10 Does this thing fly? .PP .ps 10 Piotr has never mentioned her. .PP .ps 10 I'm into her hold, now, working my way towards the bridge. The craft seems a lot larger on the inside. Length of her corridors makes no sense. I'm out of breath. .PP .ps 10 Next, an elevator. Not even on the right deck. .PP .ps 10 Wait one. .PP .ps 10 Ship jumped. Slipped on the floor. .PP .ps 10 Bridge is deserted. Lights are out. If this is what he's been hiding, these past months, I'm impressed. Was the craft built here, or flown in? What's her range? Armaments? .PP .ps 10 Also, who wrote the DASH 1? .ce .ps 10 .B 5 .P .PP .ps 10 No. I know better than this. I'll be discovered. Out of the craft and out of the hangar, making like nothing's happened. Want a cigarette? Sure. Catch the final score? Yes, ten to six. Walking, quickly, in a straight line. Sand is cold. .PP .ps 10 Calm down. .PP .ps 10 "Sorry to bring this to you," I say, aloud. .ce .ps 10 .B 6 .P .PP .ps 10 Slake will clean up my mess.