She stabbed Johnny on the small of the back, blood gushed up through Johnny’s mouth and surged down his chest. This was going to be it for Johnny, the shades were going down; the lights were getting dim. As Johnny’s life flashed before his eyes, he made the Willem Dafoe pose from the Platoon poster, ever the comedian was Johnny, and he fell to the ground. Veronica hated Johnny for many years now, his death came at the cost of years of pent up rage. But she had done it now, all of it was over, she’d freed herself from his wretched grasp. Her life was hers now, she could do everything in life she’d dreamed of.

The first step was to catch a bus onto Fargo, they had nice hotels there, not like the ones in this town that were filled with roaches, and human sleaze. If one stayed in one of these dreadful places, he or she would feel like a cold shower, not long after checking in at the desk. And he or she wouldn’t want to take this shower in the motel, either, because of how beaten up and decrepit the place was. No it was onto Fargo for Veronica for some A1, first class accommodations, and a continental breakfast on the house.