"I got plenty manners. For example, I said, ‘Go f**k yourself,’ then I added ‘please’."
The silence on the other side of the door hung thick in the air. A mausoleum at midnight.
He said, "Maybe I’ll come back another time."
His footsteps clopped away down the hall.
"Hey, I can be good!" I cried. "You come in here and I’ll give you a shot of my bologna, how about that!" I couldn’t stop laughing. "Oh sure, I got some cheese to go with it, too. And a little grease for extra flavor!"
After that, nobody came to visit no more. They stopped everything, the beatings, the food, everything. The former was a relief, the latter, a problem. I got creative. You ever eat a spider? It’s not as traumatic as people think. I mean, sure, you gotta, you know, actually eat a spider, but then the stomach ac
