Taking time to read any fanfiction is a personal choice. To those readers who continue to read and follow each chapter in this story, I can't say it enough - Thank You.

Also, Thank You to ALL those who've taken the time to leave a review.

Trigger Warnings:

All wordsmithing errors are mine alone — Toward the end of the chapter in some instances dialogue verbs have been made plural, it was intentional.

Notes at the end.

Side comment: References to temperatures are Fahrenheit, not Celsius, 0C is warm after a week of negative 0F temperatures.

Chapter Title: Secrets

Make a Decision

"Why are we doing this again? Shouldn't the police be like investigating this? With a warrant or something?" Ryder asked while he logged on to the database servers. "I'll try the test environment databases first."

"Test environment, trying to alleviate your guilt, Ryder?"

"Something like that." He chuckled.

"All I want is a list of people living on, Briar Patch Road, who work at KEI. It can't be rocket science to do that."

"Says, the woman who interviewed with NASA." Hitting the enter key with a flourish resting back in his chair as the results displayed by on the screen. Moving the pointer with his mouse, he scrolled down the list. "Wow! More than I expected." Taking a minute to review the names, "This only a subset. Oh, look one of the testers put in Drake. There's your friend Britney Spears. Helen Mirren. Shikhar Dhawan in here."

"Who?"

"Shikhar Dhawan, a cricket player from India. Rajeesh, one of the contractors, talks about him all the time."

"What about actual Lima-ites, Ryder?"

"Oh, sorry. Let's see" counting the rows to exclude names of non-Lima-ites "Ten. But like I said, it's only a subset from production."

"Who are they? Any names you recognize?"

"Dani," Ryder shook his head "No most are straight-up people. Mostly contractors. A few college grads. They probably have a roommate. The blue-collar employees have been around for a while. Married with kids and mortgages. Single blue-collars couldn't afford Adjacent unless they work a shit load of OT."

"High rent area? Why can Dani afford it?"

"Uh, maybe a special arrangement with the owner? You know, subsidy arrangement. You'll have to ask one of them."

Brittany thought it not the time or place to continue that line of discussion. "Now that you have the query, can you run a report in the production environment?"

Ryder tapped his fingers on the desk, "There is a backdoor into the HRIS database," glancing over to Brittany. "Normally, it's restricted on a need to know basis. I only know of it cos I worked with the vendor to implement it with our existing system." Covering his face with his hands, he sighed, "Brittany, I don't want to lose my job."

Brittany thought about it, they'd all signed non-disclosure agreements, but truthfully Ryder was right. She didn't have a legitimate reason to know the information, and he didn't have a request to investigate if the app was reporting data accurately to HR. "I'll take the rap for you, Ryder. I can get a job anywhere."

Stunned at the answer, "Really?"

"Legally, all HR can tell potential employers on a work reference is if you worked at KEI and the dates." Brittany shrugged her shoulder, "I can pick and choose personal references that wouldn't have a clue about what I'm asking you to do."

"You're sure?" he asked as the blonde next to him nodded, "OK." Ryder brought up another screen to login to the production application. Within a few minutes, Brittany held a five-page document that contained employees living at Adjacent along with a separate list of former employees over the last six years.

What Does it Reveal?

Mercedes trudged with care as she made her way to Brittany's front door. An ice storm followed by another eight inches of snow immediately afterward prevented most of the ice melt homeowners and businesses had put down from working. With the temperature hovering below freezing made her wish for her parents home in Dallas.

Ahead Dani stood at the stoop waiting for her, dangling something in her hand. "You need Yaktracks," she shouted out.

"What I need to do is stay at home. Tina fell on her ass, clearing the drive this morning." Mercedes chortled. "Twice."

"I don't miss that job at all," Dani shouted back. "It's part of the rent. Thank God."

"Well, girl, I just say a prayer for the street crew. And Thank God for the guys who picked up my garbage this morning."

"Did you invite Quinn?" Dani asked as they made their way to the door.

Mercedes pressed the doorbell. "Yeah, I did. She knows the town better than we do." Realizing the button was frozen, she opened the screen to knock. "Hope that's not a problem?"

Dani answered, "I'm good," as Brittany opened her front door.

The four women sat in Brittany's living room. Catching up, Mercedes indicated Tina was at home working on a new project plan to deploy a server upgrade in production. Rachel wrapped up on the couch in misery, at home, nursing a cold. Santana remained busy at home with Dave's estate plus writing a grant for Fusion. Cursing the weather. And, nursing her own cold and her sons'.

Brittany taking the lead. "What did you find out, Mercedes? About a QB?"

"Tina suggested the city library, so that's where I went. Hudson has been the tallest, most played basketball, and they've been black, white, brown. That includes the Catholic high school. Other than a list of names, I'm afraid not much."

"How about you, Dani? What did you find out?" Mercedes asked.

"Aside from beginning an egotistical jerk, Jesse flies by the rules." Adjusting herself to sit cross-legged on the couch, "He's ambitious. Which pretty much annoys everyone except his bosses who he sucks up to."

Quinn laughed, "I could have told you that."

"Yeah, but after roller derby practice, I went out with Mack and Sheila. Basically, to see if they'd heard anything about Dave."

"And? Don't hold back, girl."

"Well, Mercedes, they don't think Motta or Salazar had anything to do with it. No reason to harm Dave or Paul. Nothing to gain."

"I hear either an and or a but coming," Mercedes said, "And I don't feel like squeezing it out of you."

"Mack is banging one of the city cops." Inhaling before telling the women what she knew from Mack, "What Mack heard is that the bullet came from a semi-automatic. Like an AK-15. That much is certain. Carpenter drove his ATV across the field from where Dave parked the truck if there was evidence like shoe prints he ran over them. Or the rescue or investigative teams did. Then the dog's pawprints were all over the site." Dani hesitated, "The gruesome part is that Dave probably didn't die from his wounds. I mean yeah, he would have, eventually, but the grisly part is that he was strangled, and he probably saw who did it."

"And dead men tell no lies," Quinn whispered to herself.

"So, they don't have anything?" Brittany asked

"The cherry on the cake is the lead detective has a grudge against the family. Something that goes back with him and Paul. That might not be anything, but it was mentioned. If he is procrastinating and if Paul or Santana aren't pushing his chief, then he'll just tell his sups he's interviewing."

Brittany shook her head "No, Santana has been calling. And they've been in contact with her. I don't think it's procrastination."

Quinn nodded, "I agree. I mean, the investigation may be bogged down with anonymous leads. Still, it's high profile enough to warrant the mayor's attention."

"OK, I feel better knowing that. The bottom line, whoever did it came from outside Lima. That's what Mack inferred from her friend."

"What about the red truck Puck and Finn saw? Did Mack say anything?" Mercedes asked.

Dani shook her head, "It was a temporary license. Neither of the guys got a good look at it. Finn thought it was out of state."

"And Sheila, did she know anything?" Brittany asked.

"Yeah, Sheila," Dani snorted. "She's betting that one of her homeboys will be arrested. She's calling it white man's privilege."

Mercedes scowled, "Not like it hasn't happened before." She said with a huff, "What do you know, Brittany?"

Taking the papers off her coffee table, "KEI doesn't track who gets interviewed. Just a database of applicants who are deleted after six months if the applicants don't get hired." Examing the pages in front of her, "I did manage to get a list of KEI employees with addresses on Briar Patch Road," handing the list to Quinn. "Then a list of employee's who were terminated or resigned within the last 6 years." Handing that page to Mercedes. "I recognize a few names who live in the complex like Phil Lipsoff, but some I don't work with."

Dani leaned over to Mercedes to look at her list. "Schumacher was terminated for stealing, and it followed the process. I had to document it all."

Mercedes snorted. "Chappelle came to work for one day, then took all her vacation, then all 30 of her sick days. They found out she was double-dipping. She had a job at the chicken factory. Some left for better opportunities like Elaine."

"I don't recognize all the names. The ones I do aren't part of Dave or Santana's social circles." Quinn added.

"There's something odd here." Mercedes bit on her lip as she thought.

"Such as Cedes?" Quinn asked.

"Well, Scholl, I worked with him. He seemed to like it here, then overnight, his attitude changed. Then poof without notice, he left. Same with McGovern, I think he was on Lavender's team. Mike might remember him."

Dani taking the paper from Mercedes to examine it further. "You know the same could be said for Mark Johnson. I'll have to ask the day sups, but I remember something about him having a confidential talk with HR, then he was gone."

"That might not mean anything, Cedes, Dani. I mean, people come and go on jobs for a variety of reasons. Not all are work-related. Some say fuck you on Friday night, never to show up again." Quinn responded. "Or they can't give two weeks' noticed."

"Those are usually dead." Mercedes replied.

I've Got Some Thing to Say

Paul's demeanor outside of work, with family, where he dropped the CEO persona, to became much more relaxed, jovial, and soft-spoken. It was what she remembered in Dave when it was just the two of them. What their friends didn't see. What their employees or Lima residents would never understand about Paul or Dave for that matter. They weren't always self-centered men, insensitive employers, or city icons.

As usual, Paul was a few minutes behind schedule. Apologizing as he greeted Santana with a hug, asking her how his favorite daughter-in-law was doing and his grandchildren. Had they met in the KEI cafeteria for lunch, Paul wouldn't have hugged her, called her his favorite. However, he would have asked briefly as a courtesy about his grandchildren. Here she could show pictures, tell him stories that made him smile, laugh. At least that's what she could do before deer hunting season started last month. Now his smile was more subdued. His laughter was a little more forced. His demeanor was more haggard. His face had more lines than she remembered.

Tossing his napkin on the plate as the waiter came to clear the dishes, asking if they needed anything, Paul requested another cup of coffee, Santana said a polite. 'No Thank You, I'm good.'

Dusting away the crumbs from the tablecloth. Paul crossed his arms to lean onto the table, "Santana, outside of April, you've been the best thing to happen to this family in decades," he said with a sincere smile.

"Thank you, Paul," she responded with a half-smile. "I uh." Gazing down at her lap, nervously brushing invisible crumbs from her dress, to think about what she wanted to say. Her eyes meeting her father-in-law's, as she looked back at him, "I want you to know I'm not going to deprive you of seeing Zee and Elle, no matter where I end up living."

Paul waved the comment off, "No, I don't expect you too." Taking his arms off the table to allow the waiter to set down his cup of coffee. "Santana, I asked you to lunch today because I want you to consider something." tearing a packet of sweet-n-low open for his coffee, "Come work for KEI." Taking a sip of coffee. Paul wished he'd had his phone out to take a picture of the look of shock on his daughter-in-law's face at those words. "I'm serious, Leaning back in his chair, "I… uh, I need a break. Find a new perspective. Get my mojo back," he hesitated as he thought, "Work isn't the answer. Uh… I've been seeing a grief counselor. Going to a group."

Santana nodded, she knew April had told her. She'd ask her to keep it confidential, "How's that going?"

Paul nodded, looking away, "Good." Exhaling "So many things at work reminds me of, … of Dave. Lunch." He snorted "the goddamn phone, email. Photos."

Biting her lower lip, Santana reached out for his hand, "We miss him to Paul."

Waving her off, as he composed himself, "I'm sorry," sniffing covering his mouth, to hold back his emotions, he exhaled. "So, what do you think?" he finally said.

"Paul, I'm flattered, but doesn't KEI have more qualified VPs to take on your responsibilities while you're gone?"

"Santana, KEI has been a family business for over 100 years." Clearing his throat, fiddling with the discarded sugar packet, "You know, after the accident, our family went through a difficult transition. I drowned myself in work, his mother's severe depression, eventually abandoning Dave and me only to join up with that quack religious group." Paul sighed, "It was Dave's birthright. Even though I questioned at times, Dave's ability to lead our family's company." A light laugh escaped his mouth as he remembered PJ. His eldest was born with a steady demeanor, a natural ability to persuade and gain the trust of people. Paul breathed, "I was secure in the knowledge that he would. And after him, it would be Zee or Elle."

"I don't know what to say." Santana hesitated. "I mean, I'm flattered." Thinking of Paul's choice of the word birthright. Although Paul had a folksy way about him in private, he was a man of power. And men with power inevitably have secrets. Paul had two to be exact. One in Chillicothe, and one who'd been put up for adoption after a college fling. April had let that slip during one of their poolside bonding afternoons. When she asked Dave, he only remembered his parents arguing about his Dad's affairs and the possibility of children. April, on the other hand, knew a name, an age, mother's names and occupations, even Paul's arrangement to pay child support, college tuition, and provide health care. Taking a minute to gauge Paul's body language, his mood. Sighing as she glanced at the tables nearest them, lowering her voice so as not to be overheard. "What about Braydon?"

She'd caught Paul off guard. His face tensed, with a frown his mood shifted, to the hardheaded CEO, a harshness entered his voice. "Let me make myself clear," pounding his index finger on the table for emphasis "I'm not ashamed of him. But it's not his birthright. He'll be taken care of, I've seen to that."

Santana winced, with a heavy sigh, "I'm sorry." Paul nodded crisply, "But a male Karofsky has always led the company. I'm an outsider. A woman. Hispanic."

Paul sized up the woman across from him. Strong, confident, intelligent, someone who saw possibility and weighed the probability. But she chose to hold herself back not because she was Latina but because she was a woman, "See, that's where people are wrong." You know how this company really got started? Not what the historical society tells you?

Santana shook her head.

"My great-great-grandmother, Anna, sent her son, my great-grandfather Karol, out to peddle milk that would have otherwise been thrown away. She knew Karol was a salesman. That's what they tell you," pausing for breath "What they don't tell you is Karol's wife, Elise, got the idea to make and sell ice cream." Taking a sip of coffee, "People think it was Karol because he was the face out front. The guy who negotiated with the banks to purchase an existing ice cream plant." A shrug of his shoulder, a sly smile on his face, "Only after Anna and Elise told him too."

Santana chuckled.

"Those two women were the bookkeepers, the buyers, the food scientists whatever was needed at the time." Paul's hands became more animated as he spoke. "When they needed additional labor, both being immigrants, they'd hire anyone who would work, regardless of skin color or sex." Paul paused to look at Santana to see if she understood, diversity started not 100 years ago, but because women lead the company. "When Anna died, Karol was President. But Elise kept her hand on the company's pulse. While raising her own family." Pausing for breath, "And that worked until after World War II when the government pressured companies to recruit the returning soldiers. Which KEI did, to keep our government contracts." Paul stopped to reflect on his own start in the company's mailroom. He sipped his coffee. "By the time I started working my summer job at KEI as a teenager, there wasn't a man or woman of color in the offices and only a few in the factory. Most were relegated to scut work. All the leadership positions were white men." The waiter returned, Paul allowed him to refill his cup, "As Federal laws changed, so did KEI, we slowly turned back to what our grandmothers did, diverse hiring. Today we have a transgender person in accounting, and personally, I think gays run the place." Smiling before blowing on his coffee, taking a sip "Santana, that last change was yours, campaigning for a more diverse workforce. While I'm off, even when I retire, I want someone who's not only competent but has a vision of the future. That's not a VP, they'd try to sell the company to the highest bidder." Tapping his finger on the table, "And you forget you inherit Dave's shares. Making you, after me, the largest company shareholder. Not even Anna or Elise could say that."

"Paul, that's an interesting story, but I've never held a job, you can't be serious?"

"Actually, you have." Paul seeing a disbelieving look in Santana's eyes, "I watched your project manage the house, not a small undertaking. Holly and the general contractor praised you." He added another sugar packet. Stirring it into the coffee with a spoon, the clink as he set it on the saucer, "I asked David to show me the divorce filings, I studied your investments. Your ROI's are impressive." Eyeing her face as he sipped his coffee, "Called your Uncle Ernesto, he couldn't stop praising you, thought you were wasting your life. So do your parents." Leaning back in his chair, "Ruth Leibowitz told me how well you handled the negotiation of LHA." Rubbing his chin, "What I've seen your concern for the employees. Your charity work, community service, and investments." He put his elbows back on the table as he leaned forward "Emma did some recon for me, turns out employees respect you. True, some fear you, and a few. Well, let's say everyone has enemies."

Santana tilted her head, thinking to herself, 'Wheels,' with an embarrassed smile.

"I know when your name comes up with the other executives, you're held in high regard." Didn't you tell me you'd accepted a position as Executive Director of the Lima choir?"

"Yeah, I'm still trying to wrap my hands around the choir work."

"Will Schuester told me you've done more than wrap your hands around the choir's business. Grant writing, promotional materials, scheduled additional performances, got the books back in order, re-organized the support teams."

"That's true, Paul, but Blaine Anderson is a vocal teacher, not an accountant," Santana replied. "So, I dusted off my old marketing skills. I made a small change in the support team. Nothing someone else couldn't have done."

Paul questioned Santana's denial, or was it modesty? Not sure, he continued his argument, "April's involved in the charities you are. I heard you were responsible for Jordan Stern being elected President of the Women's Association at the country club."

"Jordan was the obvious choice to run. She has more time on her hands," shrugging. "And she's white."

"You're cutting yourself short, Santana. You are a savvy businesswoman. A natural leader. You just don't want to own it."

"Again, I'm grateful really, Paul, overwhelmed even that you'd ask. But I'm not sure yet if I want to stay in Lima," thinking of Brittany, she said.

"I don't need a decision today, just think about." Moving the now empty coffee cup over to the side, "Santana, regardless of what you decide, I want you to know to me you are a daughter. And nothing will change that. Nothing at all."

To Let the Monster Out

Jesse put his department-issued insulated trapper hat on, covered his hands with the insulated gloves, he left his patrol car running. As soon as he exited the vehicle, he felt the stillness of his bitterly cold county. It reminded him to snap the faceguard to cover his mouth and chin from the cold. The temperature hadn't been above zero all week. People had joked that negative 10 was a heatwave, and everyone should be breaking out their summer wear. He'd seen a few foolish high school boys wearing shorts in the store. At night his own home creaked and moaned as the temperatures dropped to negative 40. His furnace hadn't stopped running, he felt bad for the homeowners in the trailer park, if they'd forgotten to turn the heat tape on, their water pipes froze or broke. People had left cupboards open in their kitchens to keep the pipes on outside walls warm. Hoods of cars were up in town with battery chargers attached to car batteries that had died overnight from the cold. Finn had said over coffee that all of Burt's guys were out jump-starting cars in the morning. Even Puck had made a few extra bucks jump-starting cars. Propane delivery drivers were working overtime to keep the propane tanks farmers used to warm their homes filled. By the time he hiked over to the two farmers who stood at the river's edge, he was sure his toes were ice, his fingers blue, the exposed skin on his face felt frostbitten, and his balls were frozen solid.

"Norm. Jay," he said with a nod, "Got a call, you had something?" The old farmers in snowmobile suits with full-face knit caps and trapper hats. Only their watery eyes showing through their square wire-rimmed glasses.

"Yeah, old Jay here and me decides since the river here was frozen, we'd try a little ice fishin'."

"Now you know Jesse, we normally goes out to the reservoir to do our fishin', but like Norm said, the river has ice."

"That's rare that this river gets a layer of ice that a man can stands on. What year did that happen the last Norm? Was it '86?"

"Nah, Jay, I thinks that was the year we had that day in January that hit 80. I thinks it might been '73."

"No, '73 was the year we had all that rain in the summer. Remember Joe Ryan's vault filled up, and it had to be pumped out for they could bury him?"

Norm slapped at his leg, "Ah Hell, I'd forgot that. Old Joe couldn't float when he was alive, now he was dead weight. Like a boat anchor." The two farmers laughed.

Jesse tried sniffing the snot back into his nose, but he was sure both his face muscles and snot were frozen. "Can we get on with this?"

"In a hurry Jesse?" Norm asked, "Where was I?" Norm looked over at Jay. "Oh yeah, I remembers now. Anyways, Jay and me decides to try some ice fishin'. You know the cattle are up next to the barn, stayin' outta the wind. And I don't have to tells you, Jesse, it's cold enough to freeze your pecker off. Soes yous can't do shit outside except check their feed and water,"

"And by the barn, don't forget that Norm,"

"I said that Jay, that battery in your hearing aid frozen again?"

"No, it's not frozen, you're mumbling," Jay shouted.

Norm raised his voice. "Right, soes I was sayin' Jay. Tellin' Jesse here, it's too fuckin' cold to be outside except tend the herd."

"Freeze your pecker off, alright, it's so damn cold!" Jay shouted.

"Soes Jesse, we decides to try here on the river instead of the reservoir like we usually do." Norm continued.

"Right, cause we're a little leery about that ice bein' thin. You knows it should be about 4 inches and clear, Jesse." Jay used his gloved hand, spreading his thumb and index fingers apart to show Jesse 4-inches "Else we'd fall in. And I'm not too keen on cold water." Jay interrupted, "Go ahead, Norm. You're doin' fine."

"As I was saying, we decides to go ice fishin' cause if we stay in the house, the wife will be puttin' us to work… And ya know my Marjorie likes to quilt and she'd have me cuttin' out squares for her… Or worse doin' the dishes while she bakes cookies or a cake." Norm snorted, "Now my Marjorie is a good cook, and I do like to eat her cookies and cake, but ya know I don't likes to do dishes."

"That's right, Norm, that water is damn cold," Jay shouted. "Go on."

"OK, soes, we put a couple of holes in the ice here, sees me and Jay do."

"Did ya tell him yet we put four holes each in? Mines were a ways away from yours, Norm?" Jay shouted.

"Yes, I did. I'm telling Jesse about the reels now, Jay," Norm shouted. "Anyways, Jay here is upriver soes as not to spook the fish near my holes but close enough to hear me shoulds I falls in... Now Jay here likes a spinning rod, my grandson Luke says the straight lines is better, soes I'm trying that. Whiles, I keep my spinners in rod holders," he paused to breathe. "Now I'm using both 4-pound lines on my two of my rods and an 8-pound line on one. Those are them ones in the holders, see?" Norm pointed to a hole with a rod supported in an orange holder on the ice. "Now Luke tells me to try braided line on the straight-line case I gets a bass or a cat. Now you know Jesse, we don't have many bass in that river, mostly cat, bluegills plus the trout that the DNR stocks the river with." Looking at Jesse for agreement in his knowledge of the river, Norm continues, "Nows the blues and trouts you can pull up with the lighter line. The cat needs a heavier line, and they likes worms or minnows. Sames for the bass, they like worms... Now the trouts they likes the cold, soes they aren't as deep, a swim jig will work with them. Blues likes a smaller jig with a bit of worm on it."

"Did you tell him we throw the blues back, Norm?" Jay asked as he removes a glove reaching into his breast pocket. He pulls out a pack of Camels taking one. He lights it.

Norm turned his head to Jay, "No, I hadn't got to that yet, Jay." Looking back at Jesse, "Like Jay says Jesse, we throw the blues back, though they're good eatin' if prepared in the right way." He paused to breathe, "Now Jay's wife Annie knows how to do that, my Marjorie, bless her heart can't cook a blue for the life of her. Still eat them cos I don't want to hurt her feelings." Norm laughed.

Jesse was positive at this point that his extremities were frozen solid. Yet the old farmers didn't seem bothered by the cold. OK, maybe it was their snowmobile suits that were keeping them warm. "Can we get on with this? It's kinda cold out here." Jesse encouraged Norm to speed his story up.

"Yep cold enough to freeze your pecker off," Jay replied, waving his cigarette in front of Jesse, flicking the ashes to the snow.

"My grandson Ian gave me a pair of them battery heated long underwear for Christmas. He wears 'em when he rides that motor-sickle of his in cold weather." Norm said, taking a breathe, "Ya know Ian married Jay's granddaughter Megan? They gave Jay a pair too. He's wearing his. I'll tell ya they've been a lifesaver standin' here talkin' to you Jesse."

"Good to know Norm, so can we get to what you wanted?"

Oh, yeah, sure. Nows, where was I? Oh yeah, anyways, we've been sitting here. I suppose about an hour maybe two when I sees my 8-pound line starts to bobbin' in the hole out the winder here in my shed." He pointed to his orange hut on the ice, "Soes I goes over to pull in the line. And you know Jesse, that line is out oh I'd say 30 or so feet," stretching his arms apart, "soes, I'm expecting a good fight with the fish, cause they don't like being out of the water, soes I'm in for a long struggle." Shaking his head in disbelief, "Damn if that line don't roll up easy. Ya can't imagine my surprise when I sees the bait still attached with this here bag." Norm reached down into his tall white bucket beside him, pulling out a cloth bag tied with a slipknot "Not long after that, Jay here, hooks somethin' further up. Hell, if it ain't another bag. Soes we look in the bags cause we're thinkin' someone is hiding the loot from a bank robbery. Like Jesse James or maybe Al Capone." A discernible twinkle appeared in Norm's watery blue eyes, "Well, our luck, it ain't, but I says to Jay, we needs to call the Sheriff."

Notes:

HRIS = Human Resource Information System.

YakTrax – slip on over your shoes. They're basically cleats that grip into the ice.

Winter of 2019 was bitterly cold for a few weeks in both January and February through the upper Midwest.

Old farmers – purposely gave them a 'funny' way of talking to show they're just old rural farmboys who are quite content with their lives. Their method of speaking isn't meant to be construed as indicative of NW Ohio or any socio-economic class.