The following week, while Philip was on the spot, he told Wayne Luft, one of his dope customers, what had happened at the Lancaster roadside rest.

“Shit,” Luft said. “Didn’t you know them roadside rests is infested with queers?”

“Sure as hell surprised me,” Philip said. “Fuckin’ faggots trollin’ their bait. I hate ’em.”

“No worsen I do.”

“Why don’t we get us some?” Philip said.

“How’s that?”

“We know they’re always parkin’ around duh roadside rests at night. We go in and let ’em have it. We could clean out dese infected areas.”

“We could rob ’em, too,” Luft said. “Get us some Christmas money for our time and get rid of all the homos. Make the place safe for decent people”

“Yeah,” Philip laughed. “Like us.”

Luft got out his highway map and made marks on the roadside-rest areas in Fairfield and Hocking counties.

“We’ll use my car,” Philip said. “It’s fast.”

Philip took along a decorative sword he found in the apartment.

At the roadside-rest area near Rockbridge in Hocking County, they noticed a single Volkswagen Beetle with two

occupants, parked in front of the mens room. Philip pulled the Grand Prix around to the other side of the highway, facing in the opposite direction. He took two Preludins that Luft handed him. Then they sat for half an hour, watching the VW. No one came or went.

Luft said, “That must be a couple of ’em. Who else would just stay parked so long at two in the morning in front of the mens room?”

“I’ll go in foist,” Philip said. “Wit my sword. If they folia me inside, you come up behind ’em wit the piece.”

Philip felt good as he walked across the highway, the sword under his coat, to the men’s room. Just as he expected, the two men followed him.

As they approached, he felt his skin crawling. He wasn’t sure if it was them or the speed that was doing it, but he whipped out his sword and grabbed the queen. The guy with him was a fat slob. When Luft came up and shoved the gun in the guy’s back, the faggot stood there stunned and shaking like a mountain of jelly.

“All right, fuckin’ faggots!” Luft shouted. “Lay down on the fuckin’ floor.”

Philip stripped the fat one of his wallet, a ring and a watch. Luft did the same to the other one.

Then Philip ordered them into the car.

“Where are you taking us?” the fat one asked, sobbing.

“Fer a little stroll in the woods.”

They drove off the highway onto a deserted country road, where they dropped the two men.

“That was easy,” Luft said.

“Nothin’ to it,” Philip said. “It’s duh poifect crime.”

“How much we got?”

“A lot. Dey was loaded. And credit cards, too.”

“Shit, man,” Luft said. “I’m gonna give up my job and do this for a living.”

“Public soivice,” Philip said, grinning.

Back at the apartment, Philip told Kevin about the perfect crime. He knew he was going to crash. He took a couple of downers to help him land softly …