Listen for the Lie

by Amy Tintera

Except this is a “sorry I didn’t tell you I’m the prime suspect in my friend’s murder” chicken. Apology chicken, for short.

I guess we’re not getting “sorry you were fired for being a suspected murderer” drinks.

At this rate, he’s going to end up married to a murderer.

I’m really killing it lately (pun intended).

I’ll imagine killing a waitress with my empty milkshake glass and it will all come rushing back. Ah yes! That’s right! Savvy and I fought over whether strawberry or chocolate milkshakes were best and I flew into a rage and murdered her with my glass. Take me away, Officer!

“Lucy, it is two o’clock in the afternoon. Of course I’m not drunk.” She pauses. “I’m merely slightly tipsy.”

“Do you think you could take some time off work?” she asks. “I was fired.” “Oh, perfect! I mean, I’m sorry,” she adds hurriedly. “You know I didn’t like that job anyway.” “I retract my apology. Congratulations on being fired.” “Thanks.”

Dogs don’t know about murder podcasts. Lucky bastards.

It was a real dick move on Grandma’s part to be born in August.

SHE WOULD NOT HESITATE TO CUT A BITCH”

“Such a lovely throat you have there, sir,” the voice says. “It would be a shame if something happened to it.”

I should get a T-shirt: I was the subject of a true crime podcast and all I got was this T-shirt and gonorrhea.

I was just sort of hoping you hadn’t been raw-doggin’ it all over Los Angeles.”