Mafia #33 - Bruce Campbell Vs. Army of Darkness

Uh, ogre I didn't kill you.
 
As he continues to walk along Chill hears the old fart tearing around in the distance and decides to trust his gut.

I retract my vote on ogre and vote to lynch RB...
 
Daddy-O cruises by the school, almost distracted by the wiff of booze in the air. Some homeless weenie out boozing in the streets. He roars off to the east as the b-ball player cusses in Latin over the ball missing the hoop for the umpteenth time. Maybe the inanimate ball is smarter than the shooter.

As he cruises up South Street, he wonders why the pastry shop isn't open and would love to have a home baked sweet cherry tart!

Oh well, he glides on past Bala, with a salute that is barely noticable and heads for home.

The dense atmosphere as he goes thru the square lifts, as if leaving a bad place.
 
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