“Look, all I’m saying is that maybe this is a bad idea, okay? Why can’t we just give this some more time?”
	“We already made the decision, and we’re doin it. Now are you in, or out? You can refuse, but just know that everyone’s gonna hear that Milo’s the biggest wuss in town.”
	Milo paused. Johnny’s word was law here. If he ran afoul of Johnny Bangle, his life was over. No one would ever want to look at his sorry face as he went about his daily business. He’d have to become a hermit. His stomach turned and he agreed to go.
	The gulch was about two hours past the southern city limits of Ephraim, Missouri. Johnny’s crony Niccolò was filling his 1996 Ford Taurus with cheap gas when Johnny and the rest of his crew walked up. They piled in and took off. Niccolò consistently, with the precision of a machine, drove twenty five miles over the speed limit the entire time, just to scare Milo.
	They arrived at Blue’s Gulch at two in the afternoon. Every single one of them looked out over the edge and felt a pang of dread that shot through their spines like in a nightmare. They returned to the car and drove to the cliff’s edge with a slight upturn that would serve as their ramp. Milo forgot why they were doing this and wondered.