Throughout the empty halls of Flowery Branch, a piercing bell echoed. Each clang was so loud it shook the walls. This bell didn’t signify a new hour, or even the start of church. It was for something more sinister.
Dan Quinn could feel the bell deep in his chest. He sat in the Head Coach Throne dressed in his customary black Brotherhood robe. “The throne sounds real cool,” Quinn thought, “but the smell is awful. And the divots in this thing... who has a butt that shape? Bobby Petrino always seemed to walk funny, but could it even start explaining these divots?