Wayne said, “What do you have?” getting some amazement in his tone. “Honey, you have me, don’t you?” The way she got up and grabbed the beer can from the night table, he knew she was going to throw it at him.
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“You want me to talk to this moron, this asshole marshal? I will, I plan to, don’t worry. He ever walks in this house again I’ll wrap a sleever bar around his head. How’s that?” Carmen stood there long enough to say, “That’s what you’ll do for him. What will you do for me?”
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" ... Tell me what you want. You don’t tell me, how’m I suppose to know? You start crying, I don’t even know most of the time if you’re happy or somebody died or you got a pain, it doesn’t seem to make any fxcking difference. What I need is something like your Emotional Expression Chart, a big one I can lay over you and find out what’s going on.”

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