Boy. Pow pow, you're dead. I shot you with the last two bullets I was able to
afford. Now I have no money, but that's fine by me. When I lie here, hungry
and cold, I'll still be laughing and remembering this day. No one will
understand; think I'm some sort of crazy. I'm not. I have a good grasp on
reality, except for the fact I'm talking to a dead person. Whoops, there's
the police. I should go. Stay where you are. Tell them everything about me.
Remember the time when you found me in Acapulco? That shocked me. I didn't
know that anyone knew where I was. You shouldn't have called my name. Ah
well, No more reminiscing. It's was nice, but it's time to go. Don't worry.
You look fine.
End. Two Bullets