Sam Miller arrives in afterlife, we fuck

Folks, I'm outta commission. May never gumshoe my beat again. I'm 'bout to get plowed for unending time by the smallest most flacid cock anyone's ever seen, and love it. Every eternal second. The entire Cleveland media afterlife is holding a wake for my sex life. I don't think Del Donahoo is ever gettin' laid again, fucking charity case. They can all eat their hearts out.

Tom Brazaitis rushed over beggin' me not to drop his hairy ass like a bad habit, tells me some pointless hack is droppin' hints downstairs. What. Ever. Don't need no hints when you got the real thing. Ol' Tom can bother himself hoping Bob Bennett's closet is into bears. What a joke. They all know I've been waiting for this moment since kicking the bucket. Reunited! And it feels so good!