Werdz by Ted Crumski
“You wants I should grabs ’im, ties ’im up?” the brutish one grumbled through a throat parched by tobacco and structural demolition.
The gleaming one with a reek of cologne and clout placed a ringed pinky to lips pursed in consideration. “No, no, that won’t do. What do we need with a captive?”
Indecision . . .
Then the smarmy, weasel-faced one offered a solution, obvious and accepted for its simplicity: “What’s one more body tonight?”
Spew Forth Your Blather