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Who Unkilled Johnny Murder?


Robert T. Jeschonek

As I run through the French Quarter of New Orleans in the rain, chased by a dead man, I wonder where the hell my supposed long-lost half-brother the supposed pulp hero disappeared to with my gun.

Johnny Murder gains on me, of course, because I weigh almost three hundred pounds naked...which I am...and the next thing I know, I’m being tackled to the sidewalk by Mr. Dead Guy, who seems pretty alive to me.

I feel the barrel of his gun press against the back of my head, and I know I’m going to have to fight or die. I’ve got the bulk to throw this asshole off me...but can I do it before he plants a bullet in my brain?

You figured it out,” says Johnny, breathing hard from his run. “Now here’s your reward, smart guy.”

I gather myself up to make one last move. I’ve got the body of a sumo; now’s the time to use it.

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