The relay race that Lynn Patrick instigated had, indeed, been an exercise in futility, as she and her seven horny friends kept scooping buckets of water from the Atlantic Ocean and emptying them into the Caribbean Sea. Then they would scoop water from the Caribbean Sea, run across the isthmus, and empty that water into the Atlantic Ocean. It was a fitting paradox for the O.U.T.R.A.G.E. organization as its nation-wide efforts were about as bootless. Sometimes it seemed like things were at a standstill; at other times, one began to wonder if all the carnage could ever be resolved. Here was a group - a large group, nonetheless, - of people trying to rectify the events they had set in motion on January 17, 2008. Then they were hit with two of the most devastating natural disasters in history. One O.U.T.R.A.G.E. member had complained that, "things seem to be unraveling". Organizational structure would help; but O.U.T.R.A.G.E. found itself in the same position as that of so many large corporations, organizations, and governments: the bigger it got, the less manageable it became, and the fewer people might be destined to benefit from it. It was imperative that every U.S. citizen saw benefit from the O.U.T.R.A.G.E. organization, regardless of status, wealth, position, or circumstance. Was this just a utopian kind of dream? Or could such a concept of complete equality really be accomplished?
Back on the mainland, the United States O.U.T.R.A.G.E. members were busily engaged in reclamation efforts, as well as trying to prepare for an upcoming election in November. These were trying times....but they were also times of exhausting challenge, unparallelled productivity, incomparable intensity, and historical change. As chaotic as things might appear to the casual observer's eye, there actually was a tight-knit structure being assembled to ensure this whole process wouldn't implode on itself.
After sleeping it off, Lynn Patrick, Patrick Hamilton, Ron Oetting, Phil Baker, and Bob Ryan got back to work. The Patrick-Patrick team returned to the U.S. with additional funding. Jil Adams landed in St. Kitts to provide an update on her motivational gatherings around the nation. She had visited 21 states in 21 days, and her whirlwind 'parties' seemed to breath fresh life into O.U.T.R.A.G.E. volunteers who had begun to tire under the strain. After her high-level meetings with Colin Powell and John McCain, it was suggested that she "get some r&r before resuming her mission". As irony might have it, Jil chose a tiny beach bar called the Shiggity Shack at which to relax. As irony might further prevail, she ran into Bob Ryan, Ron Oetting and Phil Baker, who had all recovered from their recent romp with reckless abandon. As the afternoon showers popped up, and the sunset silhouetted the palm trees on the Caribbean beachfront, Jil joined the "three Musketeers" for "a drink". By the time the sun came up over the horizon seven hours later, the "three Musketeers" had become "four".
In her typical business-like fashion, Jil tried to maintain a level of decorum and professionalism. But, considering that Ryan, Oetting, and Baker (who were now referring to themselves as the "ROB Group") were once again coming off one more bull of a binge, it wasn't an easy task. Just keeping their leering, licentious eyeballs off her finely-tanned mid-drift was challenge enough. Her blonde hair sparkled in the morning sunlight; her long, silky legs glistened against the shimmering sand; her fierce blue eyes seemed to compete with the blueness of the Caribbean sky for the ROB Group;'s undivided attention. Even these three aging lecherous old men could stand at attention given the right visuals. Life was good...
What the hell....every author has to slip in a little gratuitous sex...while this chapter probably has nothing to do with the progress and future of O.U.T.R.A.G.E., it made for diversionary reading.