Actorville (Part 2)

Two guys are driving through a sun-soaked Nevada desert in a rented Cadillac. The roof is down and they are baking in the heat.

Both men are wearing shades and Hawaiian shirts.

It’s 1952 and they are looking to party. But these are no ordinary men. And it’s no ordinary party they wish to attend.

They are a couple of vacationing FBI agents, off-duty for the weekend.

And the party they seek is taking place wherever they can find somewhere that serves cocktails and has a clear but safe view of the nuclear test site.

Yes, this is the latest craze to be sweeping the nation.

They call it Atomic Tourism.

Where you can sit by the pool with a Bloody Mary in your hand and watch nuclear tests from a safe distance. Vegas seems to be the hotspot, and a new road has been paved to accommodate the growing number of atomic sightseers.

But little neighbouring ghost towns and villages are also getting overrun. Some are more welcoming than others.

The two men are getting thirsty.

It’s high noon and the sun is punishing.

They come to a fork in the road with a road sign in the middle.

One side points in the direction of the new road, leading to Las Vegas (100 miles).

The other side points down a dusty old road towards a small village called Factoryville (22 miles), but the F and Y are hanging off so it reads ‘actor ville’.

The two men see this as a no-brainer and quickly opt for the quickest option to quench their thirst.

They turn their car in the direction of the old dusty road and head toward (F)actor(y)ville.

In the distance there is the faint outline of a mushroom cloud on the Nevada skyline.