Death by Sarcasm

Two

Hey Brent, what are those photographers shooting? Your last head shot? Damn. Felt good to see that bastard julienned in the alley. It’d felt even better to stick the knife in him, to see the shock on his face.

Here I am, sitting a block away at a little Coffee Beanery, watching the death parade. The rats actually found you first, Brent. Maybe even gnawed a little on you before someone called the cops. Think the rats thought you tasted like chicken?

Revenge was a dish served best over and over again. Third, fourth, fifth helpings. Keep it coming, baby.

Cops don’t have a clue, either. Too f*cking stupid.

You’re the first bookend, Brent. Start off big, with one of the leaders. Sandwich a few of the sheep in between, then end big with the other bookmark.

The set-up and then the big punchline.

Who’s laughing now, a*shole?

Who’s laughing now?