"Listen and listen good,' the old man said 'You have forty-eight hours to get the fuck out of town and forget that you ever lived here. If you don't, I promise you, this will seem like a house warming." To drive home his point he busted open Manson's mouth with an upper cut. 'I'll dig a hole and plant you!'"
"W- w- hat are you t tal king about?' Manson struggled."
"You have balls.' The old man kicked Manson in the balls. 'If you want to rape little girls, you got two choices, take your lumps and leave town or we'll drop a dime on you,' Mr. Smith said. "Cons hate cho-mos. Forty-eight hours or you get your date with Bubba!' Mr. Smith and the old man landed a couple of kicks. 'If you go to the cops, explain why you rape little girls. Understand?'"
Manson nodded.
"Forty-eight hours,' the old man said. 'Forty-eight hours."
Count finished his bottle and again whipped it in a high arc. It shattered somewhere in the junkyard. Duke again barked. "You know what's funny?" Count asked.
"No?" I asked climbing out of the tree.
"If it wasn't for Manson doing what he did, I wouldn't be going into the Army."
"How do you figure?"
"Well," Count said as he reached the ground. "Manson raped Shannie, We persuade Manson to leave town. You moved into Manson's house, and because you moved in I met your Grandfather. If I hadn't met your Grandfather, I wouldn't be going into the Army. Go figure."
"Go figure."