Death of a Spackler
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Date: July 30th, 2009 12:08 AM Author: stubborn arousing cruise ship foreskin
Linda: I'll be with you in a minute. Go on, Charley. I want to, just for a minute. I never had the chance to say good-bye.
(Linda sits there, summoning herself)
Forgive me, dear. I can't cry. I don't know what it is, but I can't cry. I don't understand it. Why did you ever do that? Help me, Spackler, I can't cry. It seems to me that you're just on another trip. I keep expecting you. Spackler, dear, I can't cry. Why did you do it? I search and search and I search, and I can't understand it, Spackler. I made the last payment on the house today. Today, dear. And there'll be nobody home.
(A sob rises in her throat)
We're free and clear.
(Sobbing more fully, released)
We're free. We're free... we're free...to sit on our throne, as the prince of Bel Aire.
(http://www.autoadmit.com/thread.php?thread_id=1053293&forum_id=2#12382013) |
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