After we sell the head to finish the roll of gauze. The wound seemed at first much more cumbersome than it really was.
"I was scared, you know? Steve said "I thought that we had killed.
- We ? Thought was I who slammed the bottle on the head.
"Well, Bob ..." he stammered Understand me ... Now I feel so involved in this story like you. Should we not call the police?
-not a good idea. Not yet.
The dwarf looked thoughtful. He thought for a long time at any time without diverting his gaze from the girl's breasts. Furrowed his brow and mouth and shrugged. I looked.
"Listen, Stevie," I said, help me pick up a bit all while the girl took to her room, how OK?
It seemed good. He stayed in the bathroom spreading across the floor and sheets of paper towels, the few who had escaped to clean my dirty ass as a fugitive, and noted with surprise that the absorptive capacity of the Yuma Sun was well above its thumbnail towels.
- Do you know? I think I will start to dry off with this from now! "He joked.
meanwhile, took the girl under the arms and threw me over his shoulder like a sack. Its intense smell was a mixture of soap, rust and sweat. But, above all the smells, the prevailing damn that of fluid. Stank. All of it was a giant pad of flesh. It was the fucking girl Vanish announcement, I thought. So, at the same time in forty seconds I was transported from the bath to the room my mother, I decided to call it: Vanish. Not because of the Hitchcock film, but for its aroma. Vanish.
drop on the bed. A huge cloud of dust rose when he got his weight. I coughed. I went to the bedroom window and opened wide to let in light and come out the crap and went to comfort my mother. All his clothing was still there, soaked in camphor, as if to return the grave at any time. The thought so, emerging from the earth like a rotten old tree and felt like vomiting. I shook my head that image and chose the first dress on the left: yellow, summer, full of islands, coconuts and palm trees. My mother always had a sublime taste for clothes.
Vanish pulled on a costume he retired in Sun City as if it were a banana. Luckily it was not superstitious. Now, with his head looking like the bride of Tutankhamun and his body under the cloth, the scene made me even more grotesque. I wondered what the hell I was doing, but Steve got me bubble immediately.
"There," interrupted enthusiastically. The towels dry and contained.
smiled. I leaned against the window quite pleased. Outside, the birds sang. It seemed that at last everything was straightening. But it was not. The more relaxed we were, again fuck. He began to hear a siren getting closer and closer. The screams of the fucking Vanish had set off the alarm. A police car came stomping wildly lawn of Frank and Steve. From inside down two armed officers. It gave me time to close the window and crouch. The Stevie bastard was hiding under the bed. Was there was a speck of dust in eyes, trembling.
"Do not move from there," he warned. We're screwed if they hear this.
studied the situation from where it was. Frank opened the door and down the garden with their hands up. The policemen were resting on the hood of the car to register. I had to take a hand to her mouth to tapármela, as if that stupid way that the dwarf could avoid speaking too.
Frank Holcomb went back into the house, this time with them. There was only pray. I stayed very still, looking around, looking for a sign of life, a clue who was the son of a bitch who had called the cops.
A flash blinded me, was a reflection of the sun moving in the window on the first floor of the house opposite. Someone had just closed. I asked Stevie, who had just piss up:
- Who the fuck lives over there, Steve?
-A deaf old man named Seymour ... Shit ... Seymour McKenzie.
was clear, I thought. Was the victim of a bloody curse.
"I was scared, you know? Steve said "I thought that we had killed.
- We ? Thought was I who slammed the bottle on the head.
"Well, Bob ..." he stammered Understand me ... Now I feel so involved in this story like you. Should we not call the police?
-not a good idea. Not yet.
The dwarf looked thoughtful. He thought for a long time at any time without diverting his gaze from the girl's breasts. Furrowed his brow and mouth and shrugged. I looked.
"Listen, Stevie," I said, help me pick up a bit all while the girl took to her room, how OK?
It seemed good. He stayed in the bathroom spreading across the floor and sheets of paper towels, the few who had escaped to clean my dirty ass as a fugitive, and noted with surprise that the absorptive capacity of the Yuma Sun was well above its thumbnail towels.
- Do you know? I think I will start to dry off with this from now! "He joked.
meanwhile, took the girl under the arms and threw me over his shoulder like a sack. Its intense smell was a mixture of soap, rust and sweat. But, above all the smells, the prevailing damn that of fluid. Stank. All of it was a giant pad of flesh. It was the fucking girl Vanish announcement, I thought. So, at the same time in forty seconds I was transported from the bath to the room my mother, I decided to call it: Vanish. Not because of the Hitchcock film, but for its aroma. Vanish.
drop on the bed. A huge cloud of dust rose when he got his weight. I coughed. I went to the bedroom window and opened wide to let in light and come out the crap and went to comfort my mother. All his clothing was still there, soaked in camphor, as if to return the grave at any time. The thought so, emerging from the earth like a rotten old tree and felt like vomiting. I shook my head that image and chose the first dress on the left: yellow, summer, full of islands, coconuts and palm trees. My mother always had a sublime taste for clothes.
Vanish pulled on a costume he retired in Sun City as if it were a banana. Luckily it was not superstitious. Now, with his head looking like the bride of Tutankhamun and his body under the cloth, the scene made me even more grotesque. I wondered what the hell I was doing, but Steve got me bubble immediately.
"There," interrupted enthusiastically. The towels dry and contained.
smiled. I leaned against the window quite pleased. Outside, the birds sang. It seemed that at last everything was straightening. But it was not. The more relaxed we were, again fuck. He began to hear a siren getting closer and closer. The screams of the fucking Vanish had set off the alarm. A police car came stomping wildly lawn of Frank and Steve. From inside down two armed officers. It gave me time to close the window and crouch. The Stevie bastard was hiding under the bed. Was there was a speck of dust in eyes, trembling.
"Do not move from there," he warned. We're screwed if they hear this.
studied the situation from where it was. Frank opened the door and down the garden with their hands up. The policemen were resting on the hood of the car to register. I had to take a hand to her mouth to tapármela, as if that stupid way that the dwarf could avoid speaking too.
Frank Holcomb went back into the house, this time with them. There was only pray. I stayed very still, looking around, looking for a sign of life, a clue who was the son of a bitch who had called the cops.
A flash blinded me, was a reflection of the sun moving in the window on the first floor of the house opposite. Someone had just closed. I asked Stevie, who had just piss up:
- Who the fuck lives over there, Steve?
-A deaf old man named Seymour ... Shit ... Seymour McKenzie.
was clear, I thought. Was the victim of a bloody curse.
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