Page:Jay Little - Maybe—Tomorrow.pdf/227

 from the left corner, then a scream: "Get your damned hands off my husband, you bitch."

"Don't you call me a bitch, you freak looking old auntie," someone screamed back.

The two were on each other, screaming, biting, scratching, pulling hair and cursing. More laughs and yells followed.

"Freak it up … freak it up … hit 'em," screamed Dusty.

"Let's go," Gaylord said to Paul in a frightened voice.

"All right … let's."

They left quickly, without saying a word to anyone.