It took a few moments for Bob to realize just what the earthen smell was that was creeping up his nose. Opening one eye Bob looked around. There were leaves in the cooler with him. Poison Oak leaves. Leaves that the little fucktard L said he 'knew how to use.'
Wanting to recoil Bob laid there a moment, calculating his next set of movements. His upper body, thankfully, was mostly covered and his face from what he could tell hadn't touched the leaves. His legs, however, had this funny feeling of moisture beneath them and Bob was quite certain what it was.
Slowly, Bob shifted his fat ass, careful not to touch the leaves as he silently worked to remove himself from the fucking cooler. He would be killing L shortly. All he had to do was find the fucker.
The door to the cooler popped open with the signature sucking sound of rubber lining. Hoisting himself up he stood, with a clear line of sight to the counter.