Meanwhile, back at the Res, word of Bill Bellissimo's problems set off a chain of events that would last for decades. Bottling battery powered SOS sauces fell off abruptly as Mohawks hate publicity, especially when the US border is involved. The Little Buffalo underground cigarette trade had to be protected at all cost and, lucrative as it was, the Bellissimo sauce had been traced back to the Res and the big account had to go. Meeshaw did not hold with this and said so, nervously standing to voice alternatives to the Band Council in Ohsweken. A motion to retool the sauce as a tire fire accelerant was tabled but eventually lost in arguments that seemed to end the issue, so everyone thought.

In the year or so that followed, Meeshaw rented Mazdas and repeatedly crossed the river in attempts to find Lil who had mysteriously disappeared. Word had it she was into lizards in Western New York but her trail was cold. At first he considered himself lucky to land a job on the American side driving the Oscar Myer promo car. It would pay the costs of searching for Lil and end the charade at the border. But he was soon to discover how ursine suburban children can be.

While cruising a neighbourhood in south Buffalo, Meeshaw spied a familiar gang of feral boys who he knew took umbrage with certain lyrics in the promo jingle blaring from inside the big weiner over his head. Some say a buck knife was thrown on that hot afternoon, but nothing ever came of the incident as the driver "lit out on foot" as the boys attacked the weiner car. The vehicle was a total right off - stripped bare before the police arrived, next day. Its odd rusty frame sat in the street until a snow plow pushed it into the school yard that winter. Meeshaw made it back to Canada without clearing customs, yet another tale for later.

Sooner or later it comes down to fate, and Meeshaw sensed that as his foot slipped on the top rung. Changing a single bulb in the "Arbour Foot Long" sign in Dover would put him in a wheel chair for life. Months of physiotherapy were made easier, however, after he met Clint, a quiet member of the Niagara native community. Clint was in for a nasty compound fracture of four fingers sustained during the Full Load weekend at the South Cayuga Assault Rifle Club. He and Meeshaw became good friends in the hospital and it was decided that Meesh would visit the Club when the weather got better. Clint's quiet nature vanished that summer as he instructed Meeshaw to fire an MK47 from a wheel chair. Many a scant eye was cast when Meesh pulled the trigger for the first time.The chair brakes were off and the recoil spun Meesh around like a turret spraying bullets in all directions. Nothing important was hit but Clint thanked his lucky stars they were not at the indoor range in Virgil.