Later, driving. No longer riding with useless cargo like food, ammunition, weapons or explosives. Nate asks Brad where the turn is, on comms, and he's like, "Coming right up!" Nate can assure him that Godfather is watching, and I can assure you in my turn that Godfather can suck it. Privately, Brad's like, "Dude, I am so lost right now." Ray's looking totally cute in his NVGs like some kind of virtual reality show from the 90s, chuckling: "Don't worry about it, buddy. I know where we're going. We passed seven villages. There's one more. Hey, do you remember the gay dog episode of South Park? The one where Sparky runs away 'cause he's humping all those other dogs and shit?" Brad is clearly uncomfortable with where this is going, but admits he remembers the episode well. Ray takes the corner like a champ, in the random darkness, and Nate is relieved on comms. "Hey, Brad?" Ray says in a low voice. "Do your Big Gay Al for me." Brad looks at him. "Come on, buddy! Do it for your old pal Ray, the one who made the right turn!" Suddenly Brad is fifty times as Swedish as he has been this whole time -- what is it with the gay thing that turns him back Swedish? -- "...Well, hello there, little pup. I'm Big Gay Al. Have you been outcatht?" Ray is tickled.
Later, Trombley tries once again. "They had this gay bar open up in the town where I'm from in Michigan, and people trashed it every night. They had to close it after a month." wow man thatsso fucked up dude itlike so harcore and str8 were yr from ibet did u evr kil a faggot. Which, of course, Ray totally knows, so he nails him with it: "See, but there's money in that, Trombley. Did I tell you I'm gonna open my own gay bar when I get back home? It's gonna be called The Golden Stream, and it's gonna be like this big urinal, right? And there's gonna be this two-way mirror that everybody pisses against. That way when you're sitting at the bar having drinks, there's like all these big fucking giant cocks just pissing right at you." There are very few things that freak me out. I don't mean to brag, but I have seen a pornographic cinema film before, so yeah: I'm pretty bad ass. But OMFG, Ray! Fuckin' what is wrong with you?
Trombley's voice rises about eight octaves for a total of sixty-four notes from where it started: "Corporalareyouafaggot?" This is the food that Ray consumes, and he just screwed Trombley in about six different ways, and he knows it, so he keeps going: "You know what? I'm gonna franchise that shit. You can have Michigan, Trombley. Very lucrative territory, homosexually-speaking." Trombley nearly starts crying from peering into that particular abyss -- the one with the big fucking giant cocks pissing right at you! -- and Brad's like, "Chill, Ray. We want him just crazy enough."