Walt is still working full time at the tannery and playing drums five nights a week, but it is beginning to take its toll. One late night as Walt and his band mate Joe are driving home from a gig in the pouring rain, Walt gets two flat tires in one swoop. He throws his only spare on one of the wheels, and the other flat he rolls along the roadside two miles to an all night gas station. Hours later with the tires resolved, they once again set off for home—but twenty miles later Walt’s headlights dim to nothing and he can’t see the road.
They spot a farmhouse in the distance with a light in a second story window, and a quarter of a mile later they find a closed garage with a shed roof. It’s still raining, crazy rain. Walt pulls under the roof’s shelter in order to investigate the car’s electrical system and at once notices that another tire has gone flat. This is when Walt points out that there’s nothing to do but wait for the men in white coats carrying nets to come get ‘em, which gets a good rise out of Joe, the two of them giggling in a car as the rain pelts the tin roof of the overhang.
Made barmy by the night’s events, they decide to walk back to the farmhouse for help. The farmhouse sits at the bottom of a very long lane, and as they walk toward it Walt gets a feeling that there may be loose dogs, so he gives a sharp whistle into the night—and wouldn’t you know—here the dogs come a-hellin’ and they’re mean as snakes. Walt and Joe turn tail and bolt, Walt heading back up the road toward the car, and Joe barreling into an adjacent cornfield, the stalks closing behind him. Joe swiftly loses his sense of direction in the pitch-black sameness of the rows and it takes Walt over an hour of whistle calls to locate him. They spend the rest of the night in the car waiting for the garage to open.
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