I usually drink my whisky on the rocks, but tonight I'm drinking it neat since I'm all out of ice. — Have you ever tried to dispose of a body in the middle of a blizzard? It’s not very fuckin’ easy. I usually drive up to Hefner’s Pig Farm and drop the body off for his hogs (and slap my dick into a couple of his daughters while I’m there), but…

Do you believe in destiny? In Fate? It doesn't matter since they believe in you. — The ancient crone shuffled the cards with a dexterity unusual for her age. With flair, she chanted some mumbo jumbo over the cards and placed them in the middle of the velvet reading cloth. “Cut three times — and only three times — and mysteries of your past, priest, and…

Day by day, I have toiled under the weight of this damned prophecy, waiting for it to come. And it has never come. — “Sit beside me, son, and I'll tell you a story. A tale of loss and redemption. One of joy and pain. A tale you have never heard before and will never hear again. Princes and princesses. Villains and heroes. Monsters galore. And all I ask is just for the price…

When grief seizes you with the icy grip of its fingers around your heart, even Death weeps with you. — I come here often to sit and contemplate now you are gone. Our place. By the lake, gazing over the still grey waters. Begging my soul to fly over the mountains and through the clouds to once more be with you. To be by your side as we walk the…

Remorse is for the weak, just like family. — As I sit here watching the shadows on my cell wall, waiting for the executioner, the ghosts of holidays past haunt me. They haunt me. They taunt me. But they scare me no more. My fate has been sealed, and no pale spirit can undo it. My mind plays tricks…

The apocalypse is nigh, but nobody will listen to me. — The dreams flood in. Every night, new dreams — nay nightmares — about the end of times. The end of days. The apocalypse. Four horsemen gallop across the skies, spreading hunger and disease, war and death. Chaos reigns in my psyche, but no one listens. My cell is as barren…

Life had never been easy for Mary and her family, but after the world went to hell, it was even worse. — Life on the road wasn’t easy before the crash, but now it’s next near impossible. Violent gangs of thugs run the city streets, where only the strong or the beautiful survive. The roads aren’t much safer, where roving bands of thieves, cutthroats, and rapists lurk behind every fallen tree. …

When you need something fixed, and you can’t get your hands dirty, there’s only one guy to turn to. — “When you need some help with the trash, Andy’s your man. Well, he’s not really a man, per see.” I stop to take a sip of my coffee. Black, hot, and bitter — just like the women in my life. I tried that joke with Frannie, my on-again-off-again girlfriend and…

Time and a life wasted may have left me decrepit, but I still have a few tricks up my tattered sleeve. It’s far past the time for my retribution My life has been one of greed. Of lying and deceit. A life wasted floating at the bottom of a whisky…