Thread: Just Some Punks in the Backwoods {darkest_fate&Google}

Peter had been drinking the liquor since before his father had taught him how to distill it, he hadn't even been a teenager when he had gotten a taste for the stuff and didn't have too much trouble drinking it these days. It wasn't quite as smooth as water but once you got the taste for it the coughing fits died down and your eyes hardly watered. In truth he preferred to let it mellow a little, cut it with some cinnamon and hard cider, then throw some cut apples into the jar as it was sitting... served warm it was known as apple pie, easier for those without the taste for it to get down but just about as strong. The girls though had drank some of the fresher shine, not given any time to mellow it would surprise him if they had swallowed any at all given its tendency to vaporize when it hit the tongue. He listened and feigned interest when they talked about the sort of music they played. Peter had his own suspicions about how much they might 'rock', in fact he suspected that they were going to be presented as some sort of alternate Pussy Cat Dolls sort of thing, their looks on stage far more important then the music they were playing. He didn't express that opinion though, no reason to start trouble before he had them at his place, if they started causing trouble while he was driving then who knew what might happen. The road they were on was barely paved at all but after just a few miles they were pulling up onto a dirt road that led further up into the hills. I'm Peter... He said with a smile to the one who had actually asked his name, his eyes off the road for only a moment as he drove up the dark winding path towards his house, knowing that the thick woods on either side of the road would deter any of the girls if they thought they might be able to run off. Literally he was in the middle of no where, no mail delivered to the house he had to go into town to pick up anything from a P.O. Box. He liked the way she had said Mister though, knowing that she would be calling him that and more before long. Peter O'Malley, I'm a sheriff's deputy. Close enough for the truth, he was one on paper though it was more a free check then any actual work that he had to do. Approaching the end of the road his home finally came into view, dark and only visible with the headlights of his truck the moderate sized home was built up against the side of the hill, a cliff face of dark granite all along the back of the home that had been built in the eighties, it was through a false wall in the back and deep into the caves behind that the family still was located along with quite a bit more. Its not much but I call it home... He said with a small smile as he pulled the truck up by the front door, underneath the heavy tarp that had been strung up there beneath the trees several years before to let him get into the house when it was raining without being soaked, tucking the flask back away as he turned off the engine of the car. With a smile he got out of the car, making his way to the front door and quickly unlocking it, the inside of the home still dark but he still made his way in, familiar with the layout of the home and not having the least bit of trouble making his way towards the fireplace, digging around his pocket for a book of matches so he could warm the place up.