Lovely Assistant

Little bitch. She had it coming.

I know everyone calls us freaks but this was different. She was coming on to me, not the other way around.

I had walked into her camper after all the "normal people" left. Went to say goodnight if you get what I mean. She was fine with the sweet talkin' and the "friendly massage" if you will. But when I leaned it for a simple goodnight kiss, that bitch turned on me. Slapped me across my "filthy mug" she called it. She called me a. . . she. . . she called me a "fuckin' cyclops"!

After all the time we'd been performing together! My so called lovely assistant wouldn't be anyone's anything for much longer.

The show had always been a bit dangerous, and she didn't suspect a thing. A little necklace, a bouquet of roses, and a well-rehearsed apology can be pretty convincing I suppose. Nobody will miss the little bitch, and I doubt anyone can expect much accuracy from a drunken, one-eyed knife thrower.