I gots to know.
I don't want to get you drunk, but, ah, that's a very fine Chardonnay you're not drinking.
- I don't want any more trouble like you had last year in the Fillmore district. You understand? That's my policy.
- Yeah, well, when an adult male is chasing a female with intent to commit rape, I shoot the bastard - that's my policy.
- Intent? How'd you establish that?
- When a naked man is chasing a woman through a dark alley with a butcher knife and a hard on, I figure he isn't out collecting for the Red Cross.
- I think he's got a point.
I have all the characteristics of a human being: blood, flesh, skin, hair; but not a single, clear, identifiable emotion, except for greed and disgust. Something horrible is happening inside of me and I don't know why. My nightly bloodlust has overflown into my days. I feel lethal, on the verge of frenzy. I think my mask of sanity is about to slip.
I believe in taking care of myself and a balanced diet and rigorous exercise routine. In the morning if my face is a little puffy I'll put on an ice pack while doing stomach crunches. I can do 1000 now.
Look at that subtle off-white coloring. The tasteful thickness of it. Oh my God, it even has a watermark!
I know what you're thinking. "Did he fire six shots or only five?" Well to tell you the truth in all this excitement I kinda lost track myself. But being this is a .44 Magnum, the most powerful handgun in the world and would blow your head clean off, you've gotta ask yourself one question: "Do I feel lucky?" Well, do ya, punk?