Page 53 - Billy Graham in Heaven

46 Billy Graham's Glorious Jam
Jake wandered out into the evening feeling impressed by the sincerity of it all, but also ready to create a distance between what he’d seen and what it might mean. He was relieved that no OSR member was hurt. He was ecstatic that the militaristic saturation was almost through.
Yet it was a hollow whoop-dee-doo. There had to be some way for him and his cronies to have a bigger effect on the war. He dragged down to the Promised Land Pub in order to use alcohol to gain perspective. He checked to see if his crotch zipper was zipped and then went in.
Cathy, Greta and Newt were already there. Cathy jumped up and gave Jake a tight long hug. Jake flushed and painfully smiled. He soon resumed control, knowing that Cathy often hugged generically, squeezing anyone who needed a hug.
The TVs blared the basketball playoffs, Chicago vs. Detroit. The audio was jazzy with live flute and guitar, and the talk of a crowded, rowdy bar.
After the greetings Jake grabbed one of Newt’s two beers: “A toast to Cathy and company for pulling off another peaceful act in the OSR theatre.”
“I hate to say I told you so,” said Cathy, “but I’m also glad. It was nolo contendere. They respected us and we them.” She mussed the back of her head so the hair teased and glowed in the smoke and lights. Her eyelashes fluttered and Newt, Jake and several other admiring males felt like they’d received butterfly kisses.
“You can use your lawyer Latin,” said Newt, “but these patriotic people may still make us pay for our treason.”
“Newt, those people were too happy to care much about us,” said Cathy.