Unformatted text preview: legs, and they send a nurse to interview me instead. 'Ma'am, I have witnesses.' 'Is that right.' 'Mr Nuckles saw me.' 'And who else?' She prods the dry bones in her box. 'A bunch of people.' 'Is that right. And where are those people now?' I try to think where those people are. But the memory doesn't come to my brain, it comes to my eye as a tear that shoots from my lash like a soggy bullet. I sit stunned. 'Exactly,' says Gurie. 'Not real gregarious, are they? So Vernon - let me ask you two simple questions. One: are you involved with drugs?' 'Uh - no.' She chases the pupils of my eyes across the wall, then herds them back to hers. 'Two: do you possess a firearm?' 'No.' Her lips tighten. She pulls her phone from a holster on her belt, and suspends one finger over a key, eyeing me all the while. Then she jabs the key. The theme from Mission: Impossible chirps on a phone up the hall. 'Sheriff?' she says. 'You might want to attend the interview room.'...
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- Spring '12
- Jean-Claude Van Damme, Sheriff Porkorney, Mr Nuckles, Big ole puppy-dog, lawless brown hair, fucken magnifying glass