He had on his best shirt and tie, his gold cufflinks and he was just slipping on the jacket of his good suit.
He'd combed his hair and used just a little bit of Brylcreem, the way his wife liked.
He had even trimmed his nostril and ear hairs for the occasion.
A quick spray of the aftershave he rarely wore any more and he gave himself a glance in the mirror and grinned.
He was ready.
He pulled the revolver out of the dresser drawer and painted the bedroom ceiling with his brain.
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