The man carrying the strawberry is not a man. He's a fulcrum, a toy soldier, a traitor to his country. So you come in low and come in hard, with clear visualisation of the points indicated. Your tackle can be thought of as a surgical excision. That's the way you have to look at it. As I said, the strawberry carrier is not to be regarded as human. Nor can he profess to
"We don't know what got into him," the Bearded Lady said. "One of those cases when the make-up comes off, I guess." She had taken an inordinately long time to grind out her cigarette after saying that.
The Ringmaster mentioned that he had been "despondent," used that exact word, but the Midget said the Ringmaster tended to be overly formal in how he communicated and tossed around psychiatric jargon.
That’s right: North Dakota, a Nader, Big Red Lips and a Forty Four Magnum; but not just a Forty Four Magnum. They called it a Gotdang Forty Four Magnum out on the flat land. And they called Twisters Naders, and not just Naders but Gotdang Naders.
And apparently, those Big Red Lips wanted to be in the direct path of that Nader while wielding a large weapon.
Things weren’t exactly
It was over. The shootout, that is, involving outlaws and Pendleton Agents, as well as modern day FBI and black op personnel, essentially everybody relevant to setting the stage; all happened right outside his motel window. Bullet holes just about everywhere when he came to. All he could recall was pop pop pop pop pop, and Gideon's Bible flying up in the air in slow motion because there was so little difference these days between movies and life that
Darleen was already wrecked by the time she met the two brothers out at Presley’s. The one with the hat was named Socks. Aldridge had the fuzzy hair.
She went back to their trailer because they told her they had records and pot. Socks and Aldridge played one LP after another while they smoked their pot out of a bong they made out of the 3 1/2 inch outlet pipe from their kitchen sink.
After a while,