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Contagious Scott Sigler 23670K 2022-07-22

“He put Baum and Milner in the hospital,” Dew snapped. “Maybe you’d like to try and control a six-foot-five murderer who can probably bench-press this whole rig?”

Amos shook his head. “No way. That alkie scares the fu-schnickens out of me. Make sure that psycho is gone from the house before I go in, or I’m not even getting out of this vehicle.”

“Tiny white man makes a good point,” Clarence said. “Dew, can your guys get the eunuch out of here?”

Dew nodded, tiredly. Margaret sat forward.

“No,” she said. “I want to talk to him first.”

“Forget it, Margo,” Clarence said. “What the h.e.l.l is wrong with you?”

“First of all, the man’s name is Perry, not the eunuch, not Mister It Puts the Lotion in the Basket and not that psycho. Second, nothing is wrong with me.”

“Something is wrong with you,” Dew said. “Didn’t you hear me say he just killed three people?”

“Yes, and I also heard you say he didn’t kill the baby because the baby isn’t infected. He didn’t kill the boy who found Baum and Milner, and, I might add, he didn’t kill them, either. I’m not infected, so I’ll be fine.”

“No way,” Clarence said. “He’s probably drunk again. Dew, is he drunk?”

“If not, he’s on his way.”

“See?” Clarence said. “That’s it, Margo, you’re not going in there.”

“He’s right,” Dew said. “Forget it.”

“Quorum carries,” Amos said. “Moving on to new business, the chair recognizes Senator Gonzales from Topeka.”

“All of you just shut up,” Margaret said. “We can’t have Perry killing the hosts. Someone has to get that through to him.”

“Don’t worry about that,” Dew said. “You can bet the next time he gets a sniff, he’ll be in handcuffs and leg irons before we track it down.”

Amos laughed. “Handcuffs? He’ll probably just eat them.”

“Handcuffs?” Margaret said. “Leg irons? After the tortures that man has faced, you think you can get through to him by putting him in chains?”

“He just killed three people,” Clarence said. “Someone please tell me I’m not hearing this bleeding-heart-liberal bulls.h.i.+t.”

“Margaret,” Dew said, “you need to pull your head out of your a.s.s.”

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