“FIRE ANTS could be here" he thought, "I've never been on this highway shoulder before. There could be FIRE ANTS anywhere." The cool wind felt good against his bare chest. "I HATE FIRE ANTS". Carolina in My Mind reverberated his entire squatted truck, making it pulsate even as the $10 moonshine circulated through his powerful thick veins and washed away his (merited) fear of bugs after dark. "With a truck, you can drive on any terrain you want" he said to himself, out loud.