As I was seeing Viv off just now, a glint caught my eye within the sand and debris in the gutter.
It turned out to be the first of five unfired bullets, each stamped “Rem” on the butt.
As I was seeing Viv off just now, a glint caught my eye within the sand and debris in the gutter.
It turned out to be the first of five unfired bullets, each stamped “Rem” on the butt.
Boy, what does one do in that circumstance? Call the cops in case they tie in with something else?
‘zis near the house?
It’s not too late to alert Michael Stipe.
Gather six chairs around the fireplace; pour six vodka martinis; seat guests; start fire; add bullets. Russian roulette!
Or, bring em over and we’ll fire em!
Rem = Remington?