The Peace Sign Is With Two Fingers

Kill Her For Me," She Said In That Whiny Little-girl Voice. Diego Took A Step Toward Me, Wearing An Expression That Told Me He Was Only Too Happy To Oblige His Lady Love. "oh, What?" I Said. I Wasn't Even Scared. I Didn't Care Anymore. The Numbness In My Heart Had Pretty Much Taken Over My Whole Body. "you Always Do What She Tells You? You Know, We Have A Word For That Now. It's Called Being Whipped.

They Just Kept Grinning At Me From Over The Stupid Sign, Dopey Because He's Too Dumb To Know Any Better, Doc Because – Well, I Guess Because He Might Have Been Glad To See Me. Doc's Weird That Way. Sleepy, The Oldest, Just Stood There, Looking … Well, Sleepy.

Every Seven Miles, In America, There Is At Least One Mcdonald's. Not A Hospital, Mind You, Or A Police Station, But A Mcdonald's, Every Seven Miles. I Mean, That's Sort Of Scary, If You Think About It.

And Standing Before Me A Bloodied Bottle Of Absolut In Her Hand, Is Mrs. Allington, Her Pink Jogging Suit Drenched, Her Chest Heaving, Her Eyes Filled With Contempt As She Stared Down At Rachel's Prone Body. Mrs. Allington Shakes Her Head. "i'm A Size Twelve," She Says.

The Brave May Not Live Forever, But The Cautious Do Not Live At All.