ALL CHARACTERS ARE ADULTS.
Robin Rizzo looked like a young Liz Taylor, everyone said it, and it was true, her beauty was striking. Robin was a reporter for the Bay City Sentinel, and the owner of a brand new Detroit Motors 'Road Rager' convertible she splurged for after her promotion to Senior Investigator.
She bought the Road Rager with all the sexy options featured in the tv ads, and it was a marvel when it all worked, which wasn't often. It was always something, and the something was almost always the computer that controlled everything. In six months Robin's car was in the shop for repairs seven times, and now number 8. When she switched ON the headlights the trunk opened.
Robin was the only customer sitting in the Detroit Motors Service Department lobby, and she'd already waited forty-five minutes without anyone appearing behind the counter. She heard laughter and chatter behind the 'employees only' door, and looked at her watch. She thumbed through ancient sports magazines for another fifteen minutes, until her patience was gone, and stuck her head through the door. "Hello?" She called.
A young woman stuck her head out the door of an office, looked at Robin, and spoke, "What?"
"Can someone help me? I've been waiting in the lobby for an hour to see someone and get my car fixed."
The girl rolled her eyes, muttered something under her breath, and spoke to someone in her office," I guess I better go to work, the natives are restless!"
"Hey! I didn't come here for some attitude! I came here to get the car you sold me for forty-thousand dollars, fixed. You got a boss I can talk to?"
The girl glared at Robin and walked past her to the service department lobby, then paged someone for customer care assistance. Another fifteen minutes passed before anyone responded. Finally a tall man came, Robin thought he looked like Lee Van Cleef, the bad guy in all the old Clint Eastwood movies. He spoke briefly with the girl before speaking to Robin.
"My daughter tells me you're unhappy. So?"
"So my car I bought from you is broke again," Robin replied.
"Melinda? Do we have a file on this lady?" He asked.
"Yes, Daddy, she's been in like three or four times," Melinda said.
"Eight times!" Barked Robin. "Eight times with the same problem! If I turn on the headlights the trunk opens, if I turn on the radio the hood opens, the heater makes the window washer spray cleaner fluid. I'm sick of it!"
Daddy looked at the computer record. "It's the computer controller; that's a factory issue, and you're just gonna hafta relax till they fix the bugs and do a recall," he smirked at Robin.
"Crimonie! It's been six months!" Robin complained.
"Get a hobby! I don't care what yuh do," Daddy walked off.
"Have a nice day!" Melinda chirped. Robin stared at Melinda for a few moments, turned, and left the building.
That night Robin met a kid named Brian, at a desolate spot, out in the country, many miles from Bay City. The sky threatened rain, and dark came early because of the dense overcast. They sat in Robin's car and talked.
"You sure this is the right place?" She asked.
"I'm positive! The road back to the old house is maybe a quarter-mile up the highway, on your left. It's paved with old bricks from long ago. At the end of the road is an old creepy cemetery. The gate is always open. Drive through the cemetery but don't leave the drive; it snakes around a large pond and trees, and eventually comes to another road, actually it's a long drive back into the woods. Walk up the drive to the old house."
"How far?" Robin asked.
"Ummm, maybe one-hundred yards," he estimated. "You can probably hide your car in the cemetery, go to the old house, and find a good place to see what happens."
"You sure the house is unlocked?"
"Yeah, I've been there a bazillion times, its abandoned," he swore. "Find a dark spot upstairs so you can look down and see who comes and goes and what goes on."
"Pretty wild, huh?" She wondered.
"What I've seen was pretty weird," he replied. "The people dress like old times, and then they get naked and mess around, and stuff."
"Like an orgy?" She asked.