By the time Cody Hunter's parents rescued their son from the honky-tonk life, the boy had gained such insight into the human condition there was very little reason to believe he would ever be satisfied with singing “Hail to Rockford High” at the homecoming football game, holding a steady job, tithing, or saving redeemable coupons to purchase patio/lawn furniture. In short, the odds were surpassing long young Hunter would ever develop into a respectable citizen. The die was cast in lead, the mold discarded, for even the Angels despair of redeeming souls cursed to live out their teen-age fantasies.
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