"Bucky, leave!" Captain America yelled.

"Bucky, leave!" Captain America yelled.

Bucky picked up his duffle bag, took the picture of the Capt. and him fly-fishing, and pushed out of the tent. "Good riddance." muttered Mr. America as he popped a brew.

Buck headed through the trees and toward the river. He untethered the raft, and pushed off. "Time to see what New Orleands is all about", he quietly spoke to himself. He thoug

ht the scenery looked quite like a Bob Ross painting. He kept his eye out for that "special" or "happy" tree that was bound to be nearby. Life on a raft

had taught him to be adventurous. Dipping his paddle into the churning waters, he felt a bit like Bob Ross himself. Soft-spoken, but sexy-as-hell he was...or at least that's what

he thought. In reality he was a 14 year old kid, that was deathly afraid of water and fish, but wanted to impress the cheerleader who loved canoeing. He was on edge as the water be

came deeper. It didn't help that the cheerleader didn't help paddle and only offered him chants of encouragement. Could this be a dream come true for the 14 year old or his worst

nightmare in reverse? He was in a boat. Cheerleader was hot. He had a paddle. Now all he needed was

a creek, river or stream, and he and the cheerleader could sing "Row Row Row Your Boat" all night long. Unfortunately, this wasn't so much fun on top of his dad's SUV.

But there wasn't any room for him and the cheerleaders in the cab. That was for dad, his dog Hercules, and the gunrack.