’ Moe eyeballed the lush sitting at the other end of the bar. Jonas followed his gaze. The guy was embalmed—his hand shook as he fiddled with the ...ead soldiers lined in front of him while his other hand clung to a half-full bottle like a lifeline. ‘Bitte, wait one moment. Maybe we should speak privately?’ Jonas said and then headed to the other end. The guy was so loaded it was next to impossible for him to remember anything Moe might say, but if word got out that Moe was asking questions. He reported that this was the proper key, so George told Francine what she could expect for the rest of the night. "Francine, I'm going to pour more of this liquid into your cunt." She started crying and shaking her head in the negative. "No, Francine, you were a slave owner, and an unfeeling one at that. You will get more of the liquid, then you will die in a fire. We are going to build a fire under your bed and let that kill you. Soon, you will join Harold in death, and I hope he treats you. More

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