"I left his heart in San Fransisco" by James Thorpe
 

 "I'm not the type to turn and stare at a perfect stranger seated next to me. Bludgeon him to death, maybe, but not turn and stare."

"...I brought the [golf] club smashing down onto his head. I resisted the impulse to yell 'Fore' as he slumped in a heap..."

"No sense committing an agressive act like murder then running away like some naughty puppy who'd peed on the carpet."
 


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