His head was all over the... «Going Postal (play)»
CherryVamp29 марта 2013His head was all over the wall...
Look, he said to his imagination, if this is how you’re going to behave, I shan’t bring you again.
But, with its usual treachery, it went on working. He’d never, ever, laid a finger on anyone. He’d always run rather than fight. And murder, now, surely murder was an absolute? You couldn’t commit 0.021 of a murder, could you? But Pump seemed to think you could murder with a ruler. Okay, perhaps somewhere downstream people were... inconvenienced by a crime, but... what about bankers, landlords, even barmen? ‘Here’s your double brandy, sir, and I’ve 0.0003 killed you’? Everything everyone did affected everyone, sooner or later.
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