down the road from a roadhouse

"I think I see something up the road," said Mark, shielding his eyes.

Miley looked at her cell phone. "No fucking service in BFE!"

"Let's walk down there," said Mark.

The two walked on as Miley cursed her luck and complained about the heat. As they neared the place, they saw it was a roadhouse dive bar.

"What's this place doing in the middle of nowhere?" asked Mark. "Who would drive all the way out here for a drink?"

"No idea," said Miley, fanning herself with her hand. "Let's just see if they have a fucking phone."

There were two Harley's in the parking lot and two pick-up trucks. Inside the bar, there was a bartender and three male patrons at the bar. There was a pool table and an old-fashioned juke box played "Highway to Hell" by AC/DC. The bartender looked like a mountain man - tall, large, with a full beard. The three patrons all looked like bikers. They wore dirty jeans, t-shirts, and leather vests. As Mark and Miley walked in, they all turned.

Mark walked up to the bar. "Gentlemen," he said before turning to the bartender. "Do you have a phone we can use? We broke down."

Miley walked to the end of the bar opposite of the bikers and sat down. She ignored them and fanned herself with her hand.

"Phone's down," said the Bartender, "but the guy is supposed to be here soon to fix it. Wanna drink while ya wait?"

"Does anyone have cell service?" asked Miley.

"Not out here, and we like it that way," said one of the patrons without looking up from his beer.

"Fuck," said Miley. "I'll have a Miller Lite."

"Sure thing, ma'am," said the bartender. As he poured Miley her beer from the tap, he slipped a roofie into it. He brought it to Miley. "On the house."

"Thanks," said Miley, looking at her phone and shaking her head.