Chapter 8 – Yeager Bombs & Tank Rides
Chapter 8 – Yeager Bombs & Tank Rides The party was still buzzing like a beehive on a sugar rush. Pumpkins had burned low, cobwebs drooped from the rafters, and half the crowd was now dancing like they’d invented a new language. But at the center of it all stood Stg. Salty, pilot’s cap tilted at a dangerous angle, a fresh round of Yeager bombs in hand. Busty Sarah and Busty Susan were still on either side of him — glowing, giggling, and very much in the Halloween spirit. “Ladies and misfits,” Salty declared, holding his glass high like a general about to give the most important order of the night. “This is your Captain speaking. Fasten your seatbelts, it’s Yeager o’clock! ” The crowd erupted in a cheer. Winky nearly fell into the punch bowl, Ye Olde Large Lad thumped the table like a Viking, and The Govna tried to salute but somehow saluted a skeleton instead. One. Two. Three. Boom. Yeager bombs disappeared down throats faster than candy corn at a trick-or-treat raid. S...