Famine simply pokes my ribs.
The red-haired woman asks me if I would follow her into hell.
I say, "Yes."
"Then follow me," she says. She rides ahead of me but she is too fast and I lose track of her.
I am in a bar. South Something. There is a nude dancer at the center of the room. Her tits are obviously fake. She shakes and shimmies down the pole.
A cop is sitting next to me and asks me if I want to buy some cocaine. I know he's a cop and tell him to fuck himself. He leaves the club.
Ten minutes earlier, a man named Heath served me a whiskey. I downed it. "Again." I downed it.
I walk outside and there she is. The red-haired woman. She wears a silver skirt and a red shirt tight against her body. She looks at me as she passes, heading for the gun shop down the street.
I start to walk in the opposite direction and then head back toward the gun shop.
When I wake up, I'm standing in front of the gun shop.
She comes out of the gun shop, a revolver in her hand.
"How bad does this make me look?" she asks me.
"Bad," I say.