When you murder something, you damn well intend to put out its lights. You've mulled it over in your mind. You've considered your weapon, your approach. You mean it and then some. So, yeah, I murdered the rhododendron bush and made my kid cry: it was the bush or my bike, and it was never even close.
The Web Monkey Speaks: Someone Wants You Dead
The Web Monkey Speaks: Someone Wants You Dead