On the way home, she is listening to her favorite radio station that plays 80s rock/metal. "Lovin' You's a Dirty Job" by Ratt just finished and the DJ is talking about the song and the band, but now it's 10 pm, which means it's time for the news. Pam drifted away into thought until her cell phone went off. She sees it's Sam...
"Hey, Lady Rambo..."
"Hey." She sounds like something is wrong.
"Everything alright?"
"Yeah, yeah. Everything is good. Just wanted to know how your day went."
"Boring." Pam chuckles a little.
"Yeah... Same. Family reunions are not all that exciting anyway."
"Must've been nice to have a day off, which you deserved, by the way."
She pauses for a moment and then says, "Everyday is a day off when I'm with you."
"Awww. Thanks. Same to you. I'm almost home, so we may lose reception."
Sam's voice turns a bit more anxious when she says, "I just called to say I missed you and I've been thinking about you all day."
Pam smiles. "Thanks, sweetheart. I missed you as well, especially with the shit I had to deal with today."
"What?" Sam says through static, which means...
"Sam, are you there? I think I'm losing signal."
She can hear talking, but can't make out any words, but something catches Pam's attention in the road ahead. Something big is in the middle of the road.
"What the hell?"
She stops her Jeep. Lying in the middle of the road is a large deer. She gets out, leaving her vehicle running. She turns on the flashlight on her phone and walks towards the deer. When she gets closer, she is sick to her stomach. The deer is definitely dead, because it's disemboweled with its intestines and organs ripped out its belly and spread in front of it on the gravel road. This isn't roadkill; this deer was killed -- mutilated being a better word - and it's fresh. Like this just happened.
"What the fuck did this?"
She looks around and doesn't hear anything. She hopes whatever or whoever did this is far away at this point. She takes a few photos of it and will send them to Tony when she gets home for someone to clean it up, but also ask him what could've done this to a large buck. She gets back into her vehicle and drives around it, looking at one last time before taking off. Her house is just down the road another mile. When she gets home, she spots a beat up Dodge Ram in her driveway.
She is not happy. "Shit."
Bruce, her ex-boyfriend, is sitting on a chair on her porch. She spots a brown paper bag in one hand, which means only one thing. He's here to get some tail. Pam parks next to his truck and gets out.
He stands up, spreads his arms, and says with a grin, "Honey, I'm home."
Pam walks up the steps. "No. You live somewhere else. Go there. I'm tired, Bruce. Plus, it's a work night and I have to get up early-"
He interrupts, "I know you don't go to bed until at least three in the morning, even on work nights. You're a night owl. Remember, we lived together for four years. I know your habits."
"I know yours too, which is why we don't live together anymore."
His eyes narrow as he says, "I didn't see you this weekend."
"What? Us fucking every weekend is a thing now?"
He shrugs. "Has been so far. Why break tradition? It's still Sunday. Still the weekend."
"I'm not guaranteeing anything." Pam gets out her keys to unlock her door.
"That's fine. I enjoy seeing you anyway."
"I barely got any sleep last night."
"Who is he?" Bruce jokes as he takes off his jacket and throws it on the couch.
"I told you last weekend I was going camping. By the way, not a he; it's Samantha from the Tavern."
"Did you two ---?"
"Yep. A few times in fact. She actually has one thing over you: she actually says I love you after cumming in my mouth."
Bruce ignores the 'I love you' jab. "Fuck. That would be so hot watching you and another chick fuck."
Pam looks at him oddly, before taking out a cigarette and lighting it. A habit she's been promising herself to quit, but keeps extending when. "What are you talking about? We always brought women home when we were dating, so you've watched me with plenty of women."
"It's been a while though." He puts the paper bag on the bar counter Pam has in her living room as it makes a thud sound on the wood.
"I already know what's in the bag and why you brought it."
"Whiskey. No reason. I thought I'd have a drink with an old friend."
"Bullshit. You know whiskey makes me hot and my panties come off a little easier."
He smugly grins. "Let's have a few and see what happens."