On a lesser note, they finally got the Legion Hovel shoveled free. For some time the thought was to "let them drunks in there with all the cold drinks they have" but when it was discovered that Midnight Charlie still owed the Mayor a hundred bucks from the poker game they were both busted at the Mayor got the fire department to melt the stuff off the Hovel with boiling water.

Worked like a charm, and all was well. Those trapped inside fell into the arms of their loved ones, some of whom were actual spouses and most of whom were bipedal and kissin' and huggin' and pocket pickin' prevailed. But one who never came out was Midnight Charlie.

The Hovel was thoroughly searched, high and sober, and ol' Charlie was nowhere to be found. They even dug up the basement again, just in case, and found two more bodies but since neither was Charlie's they covered 'em back up.

Well, just as the boiling water had cooled again to the point where it was almost frozen, who should come stumbling and sliding along but Midnight Charlie his own self, looking to cadge a bottle or three at the Hovel! Seems he'd been spending more time than he should have with Nightmare Nancy in one of the "fantasy rooms" at the Thunderboid Notell (it was named for the proprietor's favorite wine) and Nancy had thrown him out when she found that all he had in in wallet was dust, lint, and cracker crumbs. Being thirsty, MC headed over to the Hovel and the rest was more of less history.

Charlie slipped, ya see, and slid on his butt down High Mt. Low, all 3,761 feet of it, from the Hovel (which is on to of the mountain) until his descent was stopped by a sudden plunge over the Cliffs O' Death (three feet high) and into the Mighty Portneuf River. He was roundly cussed out by Hank White, who was trying to catch a few crappie for dinner, and left to try to walk back to his box behind Murray's Bar and rillG.

Don't worry about Midnight Charlie. He'll be okay. He's got so much alcohol in his blood that his freezing point's right around -40 F.