He was a big, Pamela Anderson-looking son of a bitch.
Upon closer inspection, Cody noticed the container of lip balm from earlier placed comfortably between the victim’s butt cheeks.
She was a gorgeous women with long, beautiful hair and even longer, more beautiful boobs.
The sun was setting when the donuts arrived.
When she heard the knock on the door, Melanie held her breath and prayed it wasn’t the Harlem Globetrotters.
“Listen, Grace, if he looks like a Frankenstein, and he walks like a Frankenstein…” Cody turned around to find Grace had left, and she’d taken the baby with her.
Everyone felt sorry for old Mr. Seiter and his one weird tooth.
That night, Melanie got exactly what she wanted: A Big Mac, a nice fuck, and a ride in a Mini Cooper.
The man was Chinese, that much Greg knew, but as he twirled his Coke and ran his tongue along the inside of his mouth, he wondered, did he play joke?
Gloria Thicke had a particular way of speaking where her words seemed to come from her butt rather than her mouth, and also her words smelled really bad.
“Look, I don’t like the guy, and I’m sure as hell not comfortable with him bringing a Ouija board into my PT Cruiser.”
Cody froze, knowing that if he took just one step, the box of Nerds in his pocket would release a telltale rattle.
“Open up,” said a chorus of voices on the other side of the door. “It’s the Harlem Globetrotters.”