Macavity Award Nomination 2015 Best Mystery Short Story
Trey Tiverton sat out on his front porch in his rocking chair, sipping a jar of homemade hooch that was strong enough to melt the paint off of a barn. He watched a couple of his men play ping-pong in the afternoon shade of his barn-turned-lab. They’d snorted a little of the new batch and had excess energy to burn. They were smacking the dirty off-white ball nearly as fast as them Asians in the Olympics but with five times the mistakes.
