The Fall2013/I

Paul Spector:
You couldn't call it a fight. It was more of a mismatch. He came into the room, I was strangling his sister. Armed with a heavy piece of wood the best he could muster was a blow across the back. What kind of bourgeois nonsense, the influence of parents, teachers, the church, police officers, contrives to make you incapable of crushing another man's skull, even to save your sister! In that moment, his squeamishness, whatever the f***, in that moment, he sealed his fate, and he should have sealed hers. A miserable worm bleating, "Annie? Annie?" He deserved to die choking in a pool of his own blood. Piece of sh*t!

Paul Spector:
Don't pretend that you care about him. You listed the victims to me on the phone. "For Fiona Gallagher, Alice Monroe, Sarah Kay," I don't let you. No mention of Joe. What's one more man to you, more or less? Let men perish. Who gives a f***?