How To Kill Friends And Implicate People

by Jay Stringer

It’s just basic common sense not to grass on the professional killer.

I was glad to find him face down, because it meant I didn’t have to see his nuddie little pecker. But then I walk in here, and there’s Dom Porter dead on the floor, his brains sprayed across the wall, and his own Steamboat Willie glaring at me through one dead eye.

Maybe I need to ask Sam out. For a coffee, at least. At least. Doesn’t need to be a big thing, just to hang out. I kill people for a living, how scary can this be?

Never mix food and killing. It leads to some very strange dreams.

That was just the right mix. It was like, Hey there, I want to look cute for you, but I’m still wearing a dead cow as armour, don’t get ideas.