Random paragraph #21

When he caught wind of the first sign of trouble, Stanley had made a b-line for his bomb shelter. Built from mud, old spackle, and approximately 1,372 issues of Field and Stream, it was his crowning achievement... and even if he had forgotten the can opener (and the toilet paper), it was still the smartest thing he’d ever done... 47 years later, he was now emerging from his homemade sanctuary dazed, bleary eyed and more than a little fearful... Upon walking a bit, and taking in his new surroundings, he came to the conclusion that something terrible must have taken place here... he wasn’t sure what... he wasn’t sure when... but he WAS sure that no one born natural on God’s green earth could have created the abomination that now lay before him. This... “Hooters.” Apparently, that’s what they called this den of sin... He closed his eyes, and prayed for salvation... Stanley was shocked. Stanley was dismayed. Stanley was outraged. And then, Stanley felt a sudden pang for chicken wings.