All any of them knew was shovel and dirt. Turk and Burt dug until their knees buckled. Then they crawled out of their empty holes to start new ones. D.J. and Larry fared a little better, but not much.

Hours crawled by, and the number of knee and waist high holes multiplied across the vacant lot. They were down to one jug of water, and it was being saved for drinking, not digging. The Power bars were gone, along with the Gatorade. Everyone had retired, one by one, into the woods to relieve himself. They were all careful to stay clear of the marked path to the van. By the time it was all said and done, Larry was out of graph paper. He had used the last of it to scrawl a desperate message to Stercutus before cleaning himself up. It was softer than he'd imagined, he realized, but it still wasn't that comfortable.

Now, they just dug holes. All thoughts of a structure had gone out the window when Larry started pantomiming the actions of the backhoe that dug the original pit. "If that's your methodology, I'm just going to throw my shovel and dig where it lands," said Turk.

"Fine," grunted D.J. from the chest high pit he was in. "Just watch where you throw it."

"My god," said Burt, "I think you like doing this."

D.J. wiped his face and looked up. "Well, you have to admit, there's an elegant simplicity to it. You move the dirt. That's it. No being polite. No restocking and alphabetizing. Just moving dirt."

"Tell that to my hands," said Burt. "I have to type in two days."

Larry walked over and picked up the water jug. Everyone watched as he took two great swallows. He replaced the cap and looked over. "What?"

"Just making sure you don't drink all of it," said Turk.

"What are you saying?" In the darkness, Larry looked scary, with sweat running down his dirt-streaked face, his eyes hidden by his great jutting brow.

"Nothing, just watching the last of the water, is all," said Turk. "Forget it."

"I think I resent your implication," said Larry.

"Well, let me know when you've decided one way or the other," said Turk. He went back to digging.

Larry looked at Burt and D.J. Both of them were staring intently into their excavations. Larry weighed his options, which included burying his shovel into the back of Turk's head, and decided he would rather dig for gold. "That was a good one, Turk," he said, returning to his latest pit. "For a crying little girl, you can occasionally produce a decent insult."

"Hey, fuckhead!" said Turk, charging out of the hole, shovel in hand. D.J. intercepted him before he could get to Larry. "All of this is your fault!" he said around D.J.'s shoulder.

Larry watched Turk struggle. "Yeah? I'm the bad guy, is that it? Okay, fine, I'm the bad guy. Go sit in the car and cry, Terkington. I don't give a shit. But you can take that anger and use it to help us dig, or you can get out of my face. One or the other."

Turk stopped. He spat on the ground. "Fuck this, I don't need it," he said. He turned and walked right into Larry's original hole, the really deep one.

Burt and D.J. leapt to his aid. "Turk!" said Burt. "You okay?"

"Yeah," Turk groaned. He had landed on his knees, using his arms to stop himself from falling face first into the length of the pit. "I'm all right." He waved off their helping hands and used his shovel for a makeshift cane to pull himself up.

"Be careful," said Larry, still digging.

"Fuck! You!" yelled Turk. He swung his shovel and the spade smacked into the side of the hole. Instead of the expected "chuck" of the shovel hitting the earth, they all heard a crack and a crunch.

"What was that?" said Burt, but Turk was already scraping at the earth, digging furiously. Larry hopped out of his pit and joined the others.

"Wood!" said Turk, excitedly.

"Wood?" Larry jumped into the pit with Turk and brushed some dirt away. It was a pallet. Instead of resting on the bottom, the bundle of boxes was on its side. Larry had been digging right beside it the whole time.

"Okay, we've got to break these boards before we can get to the boxes," said Larry.

"Get me a pick!" said Turk.

"Good idea," said Larry, all aggression forgotten in the moment of discovery. "Use it like a prybar."

"Right, boss," said Turk. He clipped the edge of the pick under the exposed board and pushed down on the handle. The wood gave way with many creaks and snaps.

"Keep going," said Larry, digging cautiously above the edge of the pallet. "I can see the shrink wrap."

Turk heaved and strained and managed to snap off four of the double rows of wood planks. As the topmost part of the pallet gave way, Larry managed to pull a double handful of shrink wrap out of the way.

Cardboard.

"Flashlight," said Larry. He shined the beam and his heart sank.

The boxes were smaller than he had imagined; a little more than one foot square on all sides, and they were rotten and crawling with a variety of insects. This would not do.

"Shit," said Turk, awed by the worms and termites. "Now what?"

"Pull these boxes out," said Larry. He used the shovel to show Turk how, using the spade like a wedge to yank the decaying boxes into the pit. "Let's see what's behind them." Turk worked on the rest of the planks, while Larry scrabbled out of his way. Eventually, Burt and D.J. saw their opportunity to pitch in and cleared the wood and rotten boxes out of the way so Larry and Turk could keep working.

It wasn't easy. Twice they called for water as they fought insects and shrink wrap. Some of the boxes simply wouldn't move. Finally, Larry had managed to pull four of the rotten boxes out of the middle of the stacked pallet. The hole in the side of the pit actually resembled something archeological in nature.

Larry said, "Turk, see if you can reach in there and pull a box out."

"Right," said Turk. He thrust his head into the cardboard tomb, reached one arm in, then the other. They all tensed up. Turk braced his legs and pulled hard. "Help me," he called out. Larry grabbed his waist and leaned back, bunching up his leg muscles.

"Never mind what it looks like," said Burt to D.J.

Turk suddenly popped out of the hole like a champagne cork. He was covered in filth, but he held the small square box in his hands like it was a baby. It was dusty, but clean. No insects. No water damage. No holes. He passed it up to D.J. and Burt. "Larry," said Turk, "I think I can get another one."

"Let's go."

Turk dove back in. They could hear things moving around in the pallet. "Out!" said Turk. Larry pulled and out came Turk with another box. "Come on," said Turk. He crawled back through.

"Tell me now it's not what it looks like," said D.J. to Burt.

"I can't anymore," replied Burt.

Another box came out of the pallet. "One more," said Turk. He crawled in up to his waist. Suddenly, there was a muffled scream. Larry instantly yanked on Turk's legs. He wouldn't budge. "Larry," said Turk. "The boxes shifted. I'm stuck!"

"Fuck the product," said Larry. He laid into the rotten boxes that refused to be moved, digging deep with the pick and pulling as hard as he could. Plastic-wrapped lime green modules spilled out over Turk. Larry kept digging.

"What are you doing?" screamed Turk. "Don't hurt the porn!"

Another box gave way, and Larry pulled the remains out of the way. "Turk, try to stand up," he said.

Turk struggled and got his knees under him. "I've got leverage," he announced.

Larry dropped the pick and grabbed Turk's waist again, and between the two of them, they were able to pull Turk out from under the cairn of cardboard. As soon as Turk was free, they heard the boxes shift again, and the topmost portion of the pallet fell, followed by roughly four feet of dirt.

D.J. and Burt helped Larry and Turk out of the mess. "Thanks," Larry said.

Turk walked over to Larry and held out his hand. "Thank you for helping me," he said.

Larry flushed, embarrassed. "Aw, forget it."

"No," Turk insisted, holding his hand out. "I won't."

"Well then," said Larry. He shook Turk's hand. "You're welcome."

"Okay," said Larry. "We've got four boxes. Anyone want to quit now?"

They looked at each other, bright-eyed and bushy-tailed.

"Cool," said Larry. "Let's take a break and take these to the van, to get them out of the elements, and then we'll tear this place back up looking for more. Sound good?"

They each took a box and a flashlight and marched back to the van, their grins of triumph shining like beacons in the night.