The Impossibility of Keeping Up With B. Stover
Bernie went over to Freddie Dancer. “Didn’t I put duct tape on your mouth?”
“Maybe,” said Freddie. “But that wouldn’t have been humane.” Humane. I’d heard that word before, didn’t really understand it. Kind like a human, maybe, but just the good parts. Don’t get me wrong – I like almost every human I ever met, even some of the perps and gangbangers. For example, there was this truck hijacker, name escaping me at the moment, who shared some pork rinds with me. Pork rinds – I’d never had them before or since, but one of my best memories. Then there was another dude, with a great big tattoo of –
Bernie looked around. “And where’s Suzie?”
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