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how to make money in lowlands

Release date: 2022-12-06 06:14:02 Author:iEahXnIb

The last thing Chub heard before blacking out was Bodean Gazzer bellowing: "Hey, I changed my mind! You kin let him die! Go 'head and let the asshole die!"

Craning his head, Chub saw it was attached to a striped, sand-caked body that could not possibly be his. The cock, for example, was puckered to the size of a raspberry; definitely not a millionaire's cock.

"No, but I work in a doctor's office. An animal doctor-"

"Jesus Willy Christ!"

"Why can't you jes answer me straight."

Chub exerted himself to make a sneer. "You muss be some kind a nigger-lover."

"You heard the man." It was the white guy, holding the Remington. "He wants to bleed out. You heard him, JoLayne."

"Jesus Willy Christ!"

"Well, I thought I'd buy me a Cadillac or two," JoLayne said, "and a giant-screen color TV."

The white guy's face appeared over the woman's shoulder. He whistled and said, "Hey, sport, what happened to your eye?"

"You heard the man." It was the white guy, holding the Remington. "He wants to bleed out. You heard him, JoLayne."

"Get away from me, nigger! Get the hell away!" Chub, wild-eyed and hoarse.

"You ain't no doctor," Chub said to her.

"-and you're about the dumbest, smelliest critter I ever saw," the woman said matter-of-factly.

"No, but I work in a doctor's office. An animal doctor-"

"Good question," the woman said.

"Well, it's tempting."

"Just a beginner," the white man said.

Chub shook himself like a dog, spitting blood and sandy grit. The bicycle patch had peeled, so now he had two open eyes with which to keep a bead on the nigger girl; more like one and a half, since the unhealed lid drooped like a ripped curtain.

Chub exerted himself to make a sneer. "You muss be some kind a nigger-lover."

"No, but I work in a doctor's office. An animal doctor-"

The white guy's face appeared over the woman's shoulder. He whistled and said, "Hey, sport, what happened to your eye?"

"No, but I work in a doctor's office. An animal doctor-"

Chub shook himself like a dog, spitting blood and sandy grit. The bicycle patch had peeled, so now he had two open eyes with which to keep a bead on the nigger girl; more like one and a half, since the unhealed lid drooped like a ripped curtain.

"Don't you talk down to me."

Chub was too weak to hit her. He wasn't even a hundred percent sure he'd heard it right. Delirium slurred his senses.

Another agitated voice. Sounded like Bode Gazzer. "For God's sake, Chub, shut up! She's only trying to save your life, you stupid fuck!"

"Good question," the woman said.

Chub exerted himself to make a sneer. "You muss be some kind a nigger-lover."

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