“Please Melvin, whatever she did to you, let us help you, don’t tur….” The explosion the revolver makes interrupts his train of thought, as does the bullet that lodges itself into his skull. He stares silently towards Melvin, as his mouth opens and closes like a goldfish in a bowl.
Ha! Loved the imagery here — Melvin never knew when to shut his mouth; even when he’s shot in the head.
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