“A weakling or a klutz - that’s all that can be said about this loser. Of course, only a simpleton like our Carol could live to be 25 and fall off a seven-year-old mare like a sack of oats. Rolling over on a tractor, drowning in Green Creek, being scared by a bull jumping out of a pen and shamefully running away from it, shaking your fat belly - that's all, of course, Carol, who else? What can I say! And to receive the female name Carol at birth just because the parents already had four boys and wanted a girl - what do you think? Luck? In our bar, Eagle Nest, the eagle's nest, every evening you could hear: “Did you hear what happened to red Carol yesterday?” And then Carol walked into the bar...”