He loved it all, but most particularly the bacon. He had thought himself ready to die, but he didn't want to go like this, not in this stinking office. He'll just try to sell you a new car. He smiled, but his voice was dry and his eyes were terrified.
'Fuck!' Kurtz spat. kamikaze deerhunters, all screaming NOW at the top of their lungs, even as they jittered and fried and died. They were sleeping in little clumps or family groups. For a wildmoment he chuckled, at the realization he had been expecting an enormous Maltese Cross or CaptainKidd’s “X” to mark the location.
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