“What in hell's name is that horrible stench?" Gerry stopped short, quickly noticing the dead dude on the carpet. He quickly held the edge of his work shirt over his mouth and nose. I was sorely tempted to gag again. The stoicism I exhibited was slowly dissipating and being replaced by panic. What if the killer came back, and decided to finish me off?
“Okay Gerry," I said, "cut the crap! How did you get Velcro’s’ body in here?" “What do ya mean how? You mean you think I did this, thanks a lot!” he said, somewhat pissed.
“This wasn’t your handy-work?”
“No! Why would you think I would do such a horrid thing?”
“Not sure really; maybe because you and Ray have the only keys besides me, and you love practical jokes.”
“Yeah, I do, but nothing this heinous! My practical jokes are more of an April fool’s kind of gag. Besides I don’t even know him.”
“Okay. I’m sorry I’m just trying to figure out how and why he got here. Furthermore he is wrecking my rug! “I know it’s odd to worry about a frigging rug right now but this is how I deal with stressful situations. I ignore the obvious problem, and settle for something mundane and harmless to worry about. Okay so enough about the damned rug. I focused on the corpse once again.
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