the whole gang stepped into the circle of standing stones, fruit-loop flicking a butterfly knife open & closed like old man bob marley rattling his chains. that crazy old fucker mortimer had put in the ground back in birmingham had said this pile of rocks was a gate way to the 5th circle of hell, had said the faerie used it to pay their tithe every seven years. rubbing his hands together against the cold, fruit-loop wheeled on mortimer: "fucking circles of stone are bullshit, mortimer, & you fucking know it. there's enough of 'em littering the landscape you might as well just call 'em mcstonehenge & be done with it. they're about as magical as the god-damn loch ness monster. we're chasing our tails when we should be back in ohio trying to get ahold of the jacob's ladder project an' you know it."