Terminal Breath

 
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Terminal Breath

October 2 2006 at 1:24 PM
Harbinger Of Death  

A long table holds plenty of doo-dads good for suffocation, including chains, plastic wrap, rope, and so on. A burly man looks at you with hopeful eyes. “If these don’t do nothin’ for ya, I can use my bare hands too,” he says helpfully. “I kinda like it that way, tell ya the truth. There’s somethin’ about the feel of that windpipe gettin’ crushed under my thumbs.” He grins.


 
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