Other than bearing a fully- loaded Heckler & Koch, and fleeing, I can't remember breaking any law. For those two, I'm guilty. Vaguely, I can recall evading the police. After almost being cornered, managing to somehow escape to make it back home I was overwhelmed by the inclination to dispose of my lethal companion. I haven't done anything. But still, the gun has to go. Strangely, I could smell chalk and burnt paper. Gunpowder! It tied me to something. Something that I will surely regret.
I nervously paced through our vast, dilapidated domicile wondering if I had been identified and by now located. I'm beyond paranoid. Needing severely to unwind, I threw back three shots of Jameson. Better. Whiskey in my bloodstream afforded considerable ease. Settled enough, I turned on the evening news...
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