Snippet #2196186

Troy drove the crap car down the minor decline which led to the old Inn, which itself was less then a hundred feet from the deep sands of the beach. The brochure that Troy and Dehlia had flipped through in preparation for their visit had mentioned the role which the sea would play during their visit. It warned every wood-be visitor that in the right season the waves in the area were formidable and immense and a constant reminder of the locale.

Luckily, the Inn was a fairly active resort for those seeking interesting people, and therefore not many visitors had ever complained about the constant sound of violent waves breaking out in the waters behind the Inn-The blare of constant party-time tended to drown out such insignificant concerns.

"Who the hell needs sleep, where are the babes" was Troy's motto.