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The Perils of Pauline Tranny at the Truck Stop
Paul sat behind the wheel of his Mustang, the windscreen opaque with heavy rain. It had been raining hard for the last hour and he was hoping it would have stopped before he reached the truck stop. He looked through the windshield as the wipers lazily swept back and forth across the glass. The sodium vapour lamps bathed the parking lot in an orange hue. The blacktop was slick with rain and puddles had formed in the numerous potholes. The lot was quiet; as it usually was at 8:30pm on a Tuesday...