Chapter Twenty Eight-2

1932 Words

Plan ahead, remember. Two plans are better than one, three is better than two. I could go on and on, but I am sure you get the idea. Internally, I am groaning, for he’s got this Miami Vice white suit on, a black shirt and a white tie. REALLY. Is this how their dressing down there across the border? I think I could help him, like I did King. But, the guy has so many gold chains on his fat, sweating neck, and a thirty grand solid gold Oyster Rolex on his wrist, well I stab that idea. He seems like a lost cause. He’s got this stalk of black, greasy hair for Mexicans are blessed with DNA hair. His forehead is perspiring and it looks like you could re fry frijoles on his forehead. And, then because his eyes haven’t left my bod or my legs, and now my face and I want to be polite, I don’t m

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