Spectacular, as always. Joanie loved to savor the sunset deeply. Here on her mesa in the Painted Desert, sunsets were always stunning, brilliant, perfect. Feeling a chill on the breeze, she turned back towards the cabin.

Halfway down the hill, she noticed the Jeep. She quickly disappeared into the juniper trees. Joanie crept closer to the cabin, straining to hear…

“This ain’t the right place, Frankie. Nice lil place right here. Somebody’s gotta come back here pretty soon.”

“Wilbur, just set there and shut yer face! Long as that drive is, we could hear ’em afore they get here. Crumpet?”

Joanie was almost close enough to peek through the kitchen window, but resisted.

Briefly, she considered. Two men, out here nearly forty miles from the nearest town? Definitely up to no good. Backup shotgun in the feed shed was her best bet.

She made her painfully slow way to the shed, circling back out into the woods, retrieved her hotrod tactical Remington, then walked around front and took the keys from the open-topped old Jeep.

Wilbur was just starting to shake the heebie-jeebies off and settle in. He grinned and went to get him some a that sweet thing on the table.

BOOOOM!! The door literally exploded into sp!inters, and Frankie wet his pants. Wilbur tipped over backwards in his chair as tea sprayed and crumpets flew.

Joanie stood amazed, gun smoking. Two escaped convicts, dressed like Raggedy Ann and Andy, and Andy had wet his pants!