I Regret What You Might Not

Arthur, your brain is about six inches from this gun.

 

Now, this gun is going to render your brain into several cubic centimeters of cabbage salad in about thirty seconds.

 

Unless, Arthur, you drop that bag.

 

Don’t fuck with me Arthur, you know what bag.

 

Maria? Ha, Maria. If you gave a shit about her, you wouldn’t have…

 

You thought she didn’t know? Arthur, really?

 

We can make this easy.

 

Arthur, we’ve known each other….

 

Art, I don’t

 

Arthur, if it

 

I don’t

 

Arthur is dead. The narrator, of reasons unknown, lies along him. 

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~ by Benji on 19 June 2014.

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