Jack was his name and killing puppies was his game. He was the best god damned puppy killer around, and folks in them here parts knew he always did good work. "Got too many puppies," the old man drawled, "don't wants to kill them but what can be done?"
"Leave it to me sir."
Jack knew that there were places for all sorts of people in the world. So he liked to kill puppies and burn their ears with fire and eat them with a good slaw. What of it?
"Come here little puppy." The puppy backed away nervously...
Jack was really full. Puppies always had that..extra sumthin sumthin.
It was good to be alive.
It was good.
Puppies were good.
In the belly.