”“I’m Jack fucking Carson. That name might ring a bell since that delightful piece of ass you’re drilling is Sue Carson!” I retorted. “Thi...s looks like the makings of a multiplicity of lawsuits. I’ll own this place, your house and your Mercedes before I’m through with you.”“Tell me how you managed to access my office, Jack fucking Carson,” demanded Mason. “I can have you locked up for years for breaking and entering, you dumb fuck. Just leave now and I’ll forget you were ever here.”“Who’s the. . then consign it to the flames should you find it too terrible for the eyes of mortal men. I didn't have a chance to look at this old leather bound collection of papers for several days, but when I finally unwrapped it and read the frontpiece, I discovered that this was A. S. Matthews' original manuscript of "Myths, Legends and Folk-Tales of the Spanish and Mormon Settlements of Lincoln County, Nevada", albeit with significant later hand-written changes and additions. It seems that Mr.. I was pretty sure she was looking to get laid and I was just the guy to help her out.Whatever she did for a living, she must do well as we jumped into a fairly new red Lexus convertible. This was like a dream and I was scared of waking up before I had a chance to see it through to the climax. Terry lived in one of those upscale apartment complexes in town.When we pulled up she hit me with something I was totally unprepared for when she explained she had a boyfriend back here at the apartment. I had given some thought to improving my earlier use of dynamite as a hand grenade. I finally settled on using a can about three times larger in diameter than a stick of dynamite. The can would have a dowel about fourteen inches long inserted into the can. A nail through the bottom of the can into the cut end of the stick would fasten the two together in a way resembling a potato masher. A quarter stick of dynamite would be put into the can parallel to the stick and the fuse would run out next.
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