It was about forty minutes to midnight when Clayton Ray had arrived at his home in Pasadena. He still couldn’t yet ride his bike on account of his recent affliction; so he borrowed Shannon’s car.
Having driven Shannon’s silent car over, Clayton slithered past Cornell and Kevin unnoticed because they already had been expecting him to arrive on his motorbike.
Within the house, Clayton momentarily scoped around. He then remembered that he had a couple of Guinness Stout Lagers that were imported from Africa chilling in the fridge.
Guinness Beers somewhat differed from continent to continent. Clayton could swear that the ones sold in Africa were smoother yet sharper and stronger than any previous ones he encountered. Those were rare to find in LA; almost exclusive. Clayton particularly loved
