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There was someone who's a very tourist trap. A busload of American tourists pulled into Cong, a picturesque little village on the border of Counties Mayo and Ruscommon. It was in Cong that the famous movie The Quiet Man was directed by John Ford back in the early 1950s. That old Abbey over there, said the tour guide. It's where John Wayne and Maureen O'Hara had the first kiss. Some kiss it was, too. I don't remember any Abbey in the movie, said a woman with a Texas draw. We want to see the Tatch Cottage where John Wayne lived, said another. Where's the field where John Wayne kicked her wicked ass? said a man with a harsh Boston accent. No one wants to see the Abbey then, asked the tour guide. No, we're all tired of seeing old runes, they all said in unison. They had already been to Portalarney and Bonratty Castle. Follow me down the street then, said the tour guide. And I will show you the world-famous White Man Cottage. They all followed except Kevin Ryan. The young jock felt entirely out of place with all these old Irish Americans and their bonnies and Carrie Green sweaters. When his grandparents invited him on this trip, he had visions of pub crawls in Dublin, visits to the Guinness Brewery and Jemison whiskey distillery, not to mention sex with lots of loose Irish colleens, or slappers as he had discovered they were called on the internet. Indeed, he was stuck all day in a tour bus while the bus driver told lame paddy wackery jokes and played nothing but diddly eye music all day. They only ever seemed to stop at leprechaun gift shops and renovated castles where inside could be found more leprechaun gift shops. And so he decided to check out the old abbey, all by himself, as the pupe from the movie, Pat Cohn's, was sadly closed. He didn't know where she came from. The sky had grown dark. She emerged from behind a Celtic stone cross, or from the recess in the old abbey walls. The only thing certain, she was certainly scantily clad. He wondered at first if some radical young filmmaker was making a porn version of the classic John Fort movie. The rain, too, suddenly burst from the heavens. It was the tense shower that day, but he'd seen nothing so ferocious as this. Streaks of blue lightning shot across the sky, and visibility was near zero. Hail was hopping off the headstones. He could only grin as the little bit of clothing she wore seemed to dissipate before his very eyes. She was the quiet man Colleen for a whole new generation. For the young American college quarterback who liked his girls on the band. She was dark and fiery like Maureen O'Hara, but with a look in her slow black, seductive eyes that clearly indicated there was more on her mind than a dowry, or even a long, passionate kiss by a graveyard cross. It began with a kiss and progressed to a stone altar. He marveled as she rose above him, and he grabbed her rising breasts with his footballer's hands. She opened her mouth widely agape, and he moaned with pleasure as something glistened above him. She rolled her tongue along her upper lip before charging down.