*Not Great America.* he thought. Tinny music came from the cracked speakers under the Tilt-A-Whirl across the way. Looking at the chipped and faded pa...nt, marred here and there by rust spots, Steve, who fancied himself a poetic soul at times, likened it to a pathetic attempt at a song of seduction sung by a wrinkled whore, long past her prime. *A whore,* he thought dejectedly. *That's what I'll have to find.* He had tried all of his own lines on the girls here, and then the ones his friends. Caught somewhat unprepared, most of the women captives were slow to move away from the start line. Behind her Jen heard one loudly proclaim that she was not going to play along with the game and that she wasn't going anywhere. Although somewhat surprised by the abruptness of the start, Jen had launched herself into a sprint before the crack of the starting gun had faded. She wanted to get across the broad field in front of her as soon as possible so that her movements could be hidden by the. More

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