Suckers - J.A. Konrath
Suckers - J.A. Konrath
Suckers - J.A. Konrath
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I took a closer look. Sniffed. It smelled familiar.<br />
“Do you have pictures?”<br />
“I will. Send the money to my PayPal account. My email is... oh god...”<br />
The odor was rotten meat and formaldehyde. Somehow, while I was in the coffin, I’d gotten<br />
a hunk of dead flesh up my nose. Dead flesh covered in boogers. And a nose hair.<br />
I leaned over and puked up the coffee, Danish, and Advil. Eighteen bucks and change, shot<br />
to hell.<br />
“Mr. McGlade? Are you there?”<br />
I wiped a toe through the puke, looking for the Advil. They were probably still good.<br />
Instead, I saw something that made me want to quit eating forever.<br />
Part of a human ear.<br />
I got closer, sure it had to be some coincidentally-shaped chunk of chewed Danish.<br />
No, it was an ear. The upper, cartilagey part. I often nibbled women’s ears when we were<br />
fooling around. I must have got caught up in the role-playing and bitten off a hunk.<br />
“Mr. McGlade?”<br />
“Scratch that. I want triple.”<br />
“That’s outrageous.”<br />
“Lady, I went to third base with a dead guy last night, all because of your husband. Pay me,<br />
or find some other schmuck to do your dirty work.”<br />
“You did what with a dead guy?”<br />
“Don’t believe me? You want to talk to him?”<br />
I held my cell phone over the ear. Then I realized I was acting a bit hysterical. Maybe I was<br />
still asleep, and this was just a dream.<br />
I felt my backside, wondering if the pain in my ass was truly from sitting on my keys, or<br />
from something that was still up there...<br />
I stuck my hand inside my pants, reaching down the plumber’s crack...<br />
It’s a dream, it has to be a dream...<br />
A pigeon waddled over, pecked up the ear, and ran off. My fingers crept closer...<br />
“Mr. McGlade?”<br />
A dream, all a dream, just a harmless dream...<br />
And then I touched the severed end of something that shouldn’t be there. Something that felt<br />
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