Shadow said, "Yeah. And one discount uggs for women of the things he said was that we're trading our Winnebago for your Buick."
     "I don't see a Winnebago."
     "He'll bring you the Winnebago," said John Chapman. "You know he will."
     Harry Bluejay attempted a trick shot and missed. His hand was not steady enough. "I'm not the old fox's nephew," said Harry Bluejay. "I wish he wouldn't say that to people."
     "Better a live fox than a dead wolf," said Wednesday, in a voice so deep it was almost a growl. "Now, will you sell us discount uggs for women your car?"
     Harry Bluejay shivered, visibly and violently. "Sure," he said. "Sure. I was only kidding. I kid a lot, me." He put down the pool cue on the pool table, and took a thick jacket, pulling it out from a cluster of similar jackets hanging from pegs by the door. "Let me get my shit out of the car first," he said.
     He kept darting glances at Wednesday, as if he were concerned that the older man were about uggs discount to explode.
     Harry Bluejay's car was parked a hundred yards away. As they walked toward it, they passed a small whitewashed Catholic church, and a man in a priest's collar who stared at them from the doorway as they went past. He was sucking on a cigarette as if he did not enjoy smoking it.
     "Good day to you, father!" called Johnny Chapman, but the man in the collar made no reply; he crushed his cigarette under his heel, picked ugg boots discount outlet up the butt and dropped it into the bin beside the door, and went inside.
     Harry Bluejay's car was missing its wing mirrors, and its tires were the baldest Shadow had ever seen: perfectly smooth black rubber. Harry Bluejay told them the car drank oil, but as long as you kept pouring oil in, it would just keep running forever, unless it stopped.
     Harry Bluejay filled a black garbage bag with shit from the car (said shit including several screw-top discount uggs for women bottles of cheap beer, unfinished, a small packet of cannabis resin wrapped in silver foil and badly hidden in the car's ashtray, a skunk tail, two dozen country-and-western cassettes and a battered, yellowing copy of Stranger in a Strange Land). "Sorry I was jerking your chain before," said Harry Bluejay to Wednesday, passing him the car keys. "You know when I'll get the Winnebago?"