And then there was one. Holy shit, Mac thought to himself, I gotta get outta here. And yet, there's still a bit of wine left. Shaking his head, the minister realized he had to set some sort of example and not be seen as a drunk as he left this madhouse. Getting a faint whiff of cigarette smoke, he decided it was time to crawl back into his car, light up a smoke and crank up some Led Zeppelin. The wine was settling in nicely along with the Alka-Seltzer. A few shots of Absolute and he would be right as rain.<br/><br/>Walking to the front door, he laughed. This is the last time I make house calls, Mac promised himself. I'm lucky to make it out of here alive. Of all the gin-joints in all the world.. witness protection sent him to this town? Does it even qualify as a town? It was bad enough he had to assume the role of a minister. But here? He did kind of dig holding court in the rickety old church, finding it fun in an odd way. But these hillbillies, holy shit!<br/><br/>Walking out the front door, Mac lit a Marlboro as he slipped his shades back on.. and sighed. Coming straight in his direction was Clara.. looking as if she was going to whip out a sword and slice him in two. Oh god.. what does she want now?