A Toast to Murder
Here’s how it happened, more or less.
Frain walks into a bar. Stays for too many drinks. Then stays for a couple more till the bartender cuts him off. He says, “Anyone wanna hear a blonde joke?”
Blonde woman next to him says, “Asshole. I’m a black belt. See the blond bouncer? He’s two-hundred-fifty pounds of muscle. And the blonde bartender? She used to be an MMA fighter. You still wanna tell your stupid blonde joke?”
“Hell no,” Frain says. “Not if I’m gonna have to explain it three times.”
He turns to the blonde bartender and begs. “Whiskey? Just one drop?”
That’s when Black Belt Blondie shoves Frain’s nose into his brain. He collapses off his stool, head colliding with the tile floor. Way the bartender explains it, ’twas the drop that killed him.
Tomorrow marks the midpoint of the A to Z Challenge, and I’m exhausted from dying a dozen deaths. You ever notice how the back half of the alphabet has some truly challenging letters? Come on back for another visit.