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.