It Came From Del Rio: Part One Of The Bunnyhead Chronicles - Plot & Excerpts
That’s what I used to tell my clients, in the bars and alleys and dives I called my office. And they liked it, that I was that kind of professional. It made me a good investment — made them good investors, smart businessmen. And, taking into consideration that they were using my services instead of some hack, some suicide waiting to happen, maybe they were doing good business. Because I always delivered, no matter what. But the joke was on them, too: Dodd’s my real name. It’s the same as, during a bank job, say, leaving a fake mustache by the curb. The cop who finds it, he’s going to narrow his eyes and say into his radio that everyone needs to be on the lookout for some criminal type who’s got a smooth upper lip. Because, if they catch up with me in the next few days — three weeks, in my case, to get it to fill in properly — then there’s no way I could be hiding behind a mustache. Unless I already had one, was just holding that fake one in the cuff of my sleeve. That’s how Dodd works.
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