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Uncle Russ

Uncle Russ, never made much a fuss, he was just kinda sorta rambunctious. The whole whetsell bunch, when in a crunch bent the rules without much compunction. The cops, unamused, and very short-fused, in Detroit they did ruff up my dad. But that’s not so bad, when Russ they did grab in Chicago and pounded him dead. Now, none of this mess, you ever would guess, had to do with those two I detailed. But was my uncle Melf, a felon himself so illusive, he never was jailed. Snappy dressers, but never confessors, dad and Russ remained so tight-lipped Melf split so fast, the cops were aghast. that they never knew when he skipped. FBI with binocs, surrounded the block at granny’s memorial service, hoping that Melf, might show up himself to pay some respects, although nervous. Melf vaporized, the cops realized, and they stopped accosting the clan. Too late for Russ, since all of this fuss cost him literally all that he had.

Copyright © | Year Posted 2006




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Book: Shattered Sighs