Was she always that friendly?" I joke.
"She saw Robert. At least I got that out of her."
"Maybe she buried him in the backyard."
"Stop."
"Did you smell it in there?"
"Yes."
"That wasn't a normal smell. That wasn't the sort of something's-gone-bad-in-the-garbage smell. That was the sort of Dahmer-next-door smell."
"Stop it."
"I'm serious," I say.
"It's probably just some dead animal."
"Oh, well, in that case, it's fine.

Author: Travis Thrasher