Omega '93

Hillary's boot made Mandy scoot hobbling, hobbling mud

I believe I had split romantically with Mandy at some point earlier, but was trying to rekindle enough flame for a drunken late-night encounter in my tent on this soggy evening. We get to my tent, open it up, look inside, and find a hot blonde wearing one of my boots passed out on my bed. ( Not the local burger lady, this Hillary had been drug-driving a Bronco through campfires and shit and damn near ran over G. Mark Smith. I guess he pulled her out of the vehicle and tossed her into my big blue and empty tent. She prob'ly had some cold wet feet on her and had managed to get one of my boots on before passing out.)
So anyway, Mandy was as surprised as I was, but a lot angrier for some goddamned reason and stormed off. I chased after Mandy, but could not convince her that we should do it. When I got back to my tent, Hillary, the blonde was gone. Then I twisted my ankle.