Michael Malone - Weebly

"You're damn straight I got one." Barnum had it
ready in the breast pocket of his short-sleeved shirt
which sported red stripes vertical against the red stripes
horizontal of his tie. The cheap paper and awful typing
were the same as those on the letter Hayes had found
for himself a month ago, lying in the bottom of the tin
mailbox in his office.
Barnum's letter read in part (that is, the part Barnum
read to Hayes), "Somebody ought to put you away for
good, you scum, and I'm the kid to do it. Nobody's
going to stop me. Nobody gives a shit."
An irrational connection sparked in Hayes's brain
where it was almost regretfully recircuited: maybe he
had sent Barnum that letter while intoxicated. Of course
he had not. Nor was he to learn what the preceding
(unread) part of Barnum's note said. It said, "Fuck
cunts," typed a dozen times in punctuationless
succession, followed by: "All of them stupid cunts. Can't
get it up, can you. Your too dirty for a good woman.
Think your so nuts about your mother. You hated her
dirty guts. And that other bitch too."
"Maybe it's some kid with an unfortunate sense of