Anything that can kill a man, I sell. Except suicidal depression.That is unfortunately not packageable.

If I sleep – will I wake from this nightmare? If not, I pray my heavenly Father will take me in my sleep.

They were all dead. The final gunshot was an exclamation mark to everything that had led to this point. I released my finger from the trigger. And then it was over.

Commie ghosts what don't know they're dead. Hoping to steal our rockets so they can fly up and paint the moon pink and draw a Lenin face on it.

Everything here is meant to kill at your discretion. Except for me. I only kill when I want to.