Chapter XVI
Heroic Intentions?
Champ Sappline leaned back in his chair, displaying his yellow t-shirt, which read if you think this shirt is yellow, you’ve got piss eye. “I saw what happened with that Dulande guy last week,” the garbage man said to the fellow on the other side of the desk. “That was awkward, right?”
Mr. Johnson snorted and replied, “That’s a bit of an understatement.” The amiable black shepherd with the soothing voice plucked a piece of fluff from his olive tweed suit and put it into the dispose hole.
“Do they know who did it?” asked Champ. “Who killed him?”
“Currently, no.”
“I can’t believe anyone’s taking what he said seriously. Our souls are squids in a crater in some hollow moon and they’ll float into the sun if we kill somebody? I mean, how can anyone take that
