“Bobby, what the hell are you doing?”
“Well,” he says, scrunching and fidgeting with his gimme hat,“I done murdered Earl, and I thought I might oughta find a doctor for him.”
“Do you realize how fast you were going? All four of these tires are so bald that they’re showing wire, the passenger side front fender is going to fly off in the wind...You did what?”
Bobby’s expression kind of wrinkles up, and he mauls his cap a bit more. “I kilt Earl.”
Oh, God. This I don’t need. I find myself speaking very slowly and carefully, “Bobby, are you sure you killed Earl?”
“We-eeell, I shot him in the face with a shotgun.”
Oh, yeah. That’ll do the trick. I feel a headache tip-toeing it’s
way up my spine with all the dainty grace of a rhino in steeltoed
combat boots.
A collection of short stories about a man and his experiences in and out of law enforcement.
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