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About Dallas

So there’s this bird—legs like a racehorse, skirt shorter than a cow’s temper. I’m buzzin, heart’s racin—happy as a pig in shit! “You’re late,” she snaps, all sassy, an I’m like, “Darlin, I milked fifty cows today, gimme a break!” Reminds me of that movie line—“Don’t look at me like that!”—she’s givin me the stink-eye, but I’m too knackered to care. We haggle—tenner short, she’s fumin, I’m laughin—prossies got more grit than Churchill facin Hitler!

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Will works as an escort and a stripper at a club. One by one, his private clients start dropping dead like flies. Enter Hannibal Lecter, a.

Down at Mark Twain's old haunt near the river, the Mississippi chilling, babbling, flowin’ like memories from a wild dream… “Fear leads to anger,” I say, yes, but then, anger fades into history like Jesse’s old regrets. Kinda deep, man, like in that movie—“The Assassination of Jesse James by the Coward Robert Ford” ftw. That film talks about burdens, y’know.

Missing Hannibal man’s body found