A hundred pounds to the man who takes him. But that possibility had been anticipated. ’ ‘That is not your affair. I told her it was the end. She went about the gory business of disposing of the bodies, cutting them up with a large butcher knife and packing the light dry pieces of their bloodless remains in a double ply garbage bag, pieces that looked like overcooked, ruined meat. “You blithering idiot!” he exclaimed. The material cares of life hang about your neck like a millstone. Hell, my mom hates everyone, don’t take this personally, but she doesn’t like you very much and she isn’t shy about letting me know.
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