but to go back into that tent ( which would now smell very much like the comfort station on transverse number one in central park , where the ever popular dark sweet treat would be sitting for eternity ) and unzip her side of the sleeping bag the rest of the way and pull out her stiff and baggy body and drag it up to the hole by the armpits and tumble it in and then shovel the dirt over it , watching the earth patter on her white legs with their bulging nodules of varicose veins and stick in her hair ... uh-uh , buddy .