No Chucks for Old Sneed
Anton pulled into the closest gas station in the one horse town. Except for farmland, trees and the occasional horse-drawn buggy, there was nothing around, which suited him and his particular nature. The Seed and Feed was an old establishment, though had once been used as a house of ill repute. Anton filled the gas tank and headed in to pay.
Two yokels sat in front, one smoking a corn corncob pipe, though by the looks of it, he more kept it sitting in his mouth out of habit than lighting it and drawing from it. The other was a square headed fellow, drinking a beer and leaning back on the porch in front of the Seed and Feed.
"Well, look at the City Slicker pulling up in his fancy German Car", the first man said as he removed his unlit pipe.
"What business is it of yours where I'm from?" Anton chided. He put his hand in his pocket and rifled through, looking for a quarter.
"Well, pardon us, Mr. Gucci loafers", replied the second man.
Anton looked down at his snake skin cowboy boots and dragged them across the floor, wiping streaks of blood from another encounter across the ground. He pulled out the quarter and held it closed in his hand.
"What's the most you ever lost on a coin toss?"
"Well, shoot. This store" the second man answered. "Used to be mine until Sneed here married my sister. Had to give them a wedding present, so we flipped for it. Heads, the Fuck and Suck, tails, some shoes from a hobo."
Anton gave a curious, puzzled look. "You married into it?"
The two men did not answer. Anton grew frustrated.
"Call it, friendo." Anton demanded, shaking the closed fist that held the quarter.
"Heads" was called but Anton wasn't sure who said it. He opened his hand and revealed President Washington's face to the store owners.
"Well done", Anton said with a smile devoid of joy.
"Well la di da, Mr. Park Avenue Manicure." Sneed joked. Anton left without further interaction. He drove his stolen, Guatemalan sedan out of Springfield, finding Shelbyville more hospitable to his games of chance.