Had he lost? He tried the door. Still locked. Back to the desk. Hit the GollyReader. Dark. The door clicked. Cameron turned. Bill. “Is this is it?” Cameron asked. “Time to say good-bye?” “Yep. Good-bye to the market. Good-bye to bratwurst. And hello to the lounge.” “Huh?” “I could have fun tormenting you, but nah.” Bill laughed. “There was someone else coming through, so we locked you back in until the coast was clear.” “I got it right?” Bill slapped him on the back. “You’re even first. Hope you don’t mind being alone in the lounge. This might take a while.” Alone was fine. Alone was quiet. Alone, he could smell himself. He went into the bathroom. Its closet was stocked with stacks of towels and toothbrushes, hairbrushes and hair spray, deodorants and colognes. And it had a mirror. He was a sweaty mess. Cameron turned the water on full force, doused his head, and practically drenched his whole Gollywhopper shirt. He took it off and tried to towel-dry it.
