One day a strong wind gathered and dislodged Pasty, the family's pet fly strip, from the metallic Phil's Soothing Foot Wart Pads sign on the cinder block wall of the gas station in some effete town somewhere. The fly strip flew twenty yards and became attached to the back of the hitchhiker's faded jeans jacket as he walked out of town eating a well-chewed ear of corn.
Pasty, sensing this was her chance to see the world, held on as tightly as she could. In the distance, back at the gas station, a bewildered gardener emerged, scratching his bald dome and peering into the back alley.
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