Terrible accident; body parts was everywhere—-fingers, toes, wings, beaks. Ambulance people tried to scoop him all up, but apparently it ain’t so easy as you might think—telling a chicken from a Chinaman, I mean. Anyways, they got his weight off his driver’s license, picked up a hundred and thirty pounds of pieces and buried ‘em. Now his wife come every year 'bout this time to pay her respects. We don't serve chicken while she's here. Hope you ain't got a taste for it.
R.J. LeahyStichwörter: humor mystery detective fat-chance
Riiiight,” you interrupt,
“I was just checking
to make sure that
what me and my friend do
was actually none of your
goddamned
business…
Stichwörter: fat-chance msm
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