The Long Walk

by Richard Bachman

“Your Plan and the stuff that comes out of my asshole bear a suspicious resemblance to each other,”

“You don’t exactly look like a deodorant ad yourself, Ray.”

“So I can piss on him,”

“I wish your mothers had miscarried you stinking whoresons

“Married! MARRIED? ARE YOU TELLING ME THAT NUMBSKULL IS—”

“I got the time if you got the money, honey.”

“He thinks we’re queer for each other,” McVries said, amused. “He what

“Bruh,”

“Virgin, aren’t you? Maybe a little bit queer in the bargain? Touch of the lavender? Don’t be afraid. You can talk to Papa Stebbins.”

“Motherfucker! You!—” “Now there’s an interesting word. What made you use that word?”

shut ya trap.

“Yuh.”

McVries? Did you hear us? I sold you down, McVries. Musketeers forever.

“Garraty,” Stebbins said amiably, “why don’t you go have sex with your mother?”

“No!” Garraty screamed again. “Me! Me! Shoot me!”