“Wanna know why I like guns?” Jared shouted. “Because I pull the trigger here, and something happens over there.”
Kevin thumbed fat copper cartridges into the throat of the chubby black magazine. The men both wore large ear protectors that made them resemble ’70s radio DJs.
Continue reading Gunplay by Thomas Pluck →
Do you know how fucked you are?
Let me explain exactly how fucked like a passed out prom date’s dry asshole you really are.
You scratched the paint. You think a guy like me, drives a different car every day, wouldn’t care about that shit. But this car don’t belong to me. It belongs to the boss. He lent it to me for the day, because he knows I like quality. I got it in the Continue reading FUCKED by Thomas Pluck →