Before I kill you, Iíd like to say something on my own behalf.† Iíll tell you that my name is Herb: Frank Herb.†
Donít try to introduce yourself.† I already know your name anyway, Mister Speakeasy.† If I didnít, you wouldnít be lying tied-up on your living room floor with a rag shoved down your throat.† If I didnít know who you were, I wouldnít have taped your mouth shut with duct-tape.† By the way: are you having a hard time breathing through all that blood?† I didnít mean to pop you in the nose like that; you kind of forced me.† You marks never seem to learn: resistance doesnít pay.† I bet you see that now though.
Given your present situation you may find this difficult to believe, but Iím actually not that terrible of a guy.† Iíd even offer you a smoke if you didnít have duct-tape over your mouth.† Iím sure you wonít mind if I have one.
Things are going badly enough for you as it is, wouldnít you say, without asking for more trouble?
Hey.† Iím talking to you; would you stop looking over at her?† Sheís not going to help you.† You like her though, huh?
Well, donít look to her for sympathy Mister Speakeasy: sheís got ice-cubes in her chest.
People like you: always splashing your filth in the face of humanity.
Illegally-modified Toshiba-Bishi InfoWear shades.
Disguised as a† -
Stop squirming around; itíll all be over soon.† But listen to me first, would you?† Please?†
I work in the Troubleshooting Industry.† Iím a Private Contractor.
...and you look like trouble to me...