Fucking fetid shit bag. I was like, “so that’s it right? Dean whats-his-face said ‘yeehaw’ too loud and lost, this dumbass just noosed himself… Right?”

Ah the bodega was silent when I walked in for my breakfast sandwich that November morning. “What the fuck” was quickly uttered by all that day, peppering the air like the guy making my breakfast peppered the egg sandwich.