Kevin reached for the round can of Skoal chewing tobacco tucked in the back pocket of his blue jeans, pinching off a large plug and placing it behind his lower lip. “Worm dirt,” he said with a grin, speckles of the fine-cut tobacco peppered across his milky-white teeth.

“Here, Kev, have another beer,” Trax said, slapping him on the back. “Damn, boy, you’re as big as a House and twice as strong!”

“Yep,” Kevin said. He opened the beer and downed it in a few swallows before belching so loudly the surrounding fair patrons nearly ducked for cover.

“The rest of the Zoo Crew is headed on up over to the horse pull. Let’s go, House! I’ll race you there,” Trax said as he lit a Marlboro red and began jogging away.

Kevin spit sideways, wiped his mouth, and chased after him, the empty can of Stroh’s beer still in his hands. “I’m gonna kick your ass when I catch ya!”

When they arrived at the horse pull, a team of draft horses were attempting to pull a large weighted sled across a crowded field of onlookers.