She sprawled on my thread-bear rug like a worn out pink donkey. Only this donkey was done braying. The hole in her belly as big as LadyJ's rack told me_she_wouldn't_be_going_to_see_wirthling_no_more.
You're in the coal mine with no canary now, Spanks. If the Penguin thinks you did this it'll be draperies for you. And if the cops get windy you wont be a private pecker no more! Of course...
And me with a shooter in my shorts with her lipstick and fingerprints all over it. Things didn't look good, and only got uglier when Gabe walked in.
Of course what? Cough it up Gabe! Do you know who did this?
No, but I have a tinkling of an idea. But you'll need the proof, and he caries it with him - never lets it out of his pants.
Him? Him who? Make sense man! What does he carry?!?
For crying out the window! Don't eat my panties for brunch!
