Cancer’s Nude Death List

"Where is fucking Greg?" Sylvia kept asking. "Where the fuck is he?" She was jonesing bad. "Relax!" snapped Abe. "You're not doing yourself any good thinking about it. You're not doing anybody any good." He pinched his temples and pressed his pams into his aching eyeballs. Syl flipped him the bird, her loose blouse slipping, showing off her tit. She was skinny, but everybody said she had great tits. ... "Greggie!" Sylvia squealed. "Gimme, gimme, gimme, baby!" Her hands were all over him. ... The needle slid easily between her toes, but she still shook and cursed. He hesitated. "Ow, fuck! Do it! Just do it!" ... "Oh, baby.... Oh, honey, I owe you a solid. Fuck, man, let's fuck. You want it?" She spread her legs languidly. Her head lolled. "Uh uh, I want some head, baby," he said. "Gimme that sweet mouth." "Oh yeah," Syl said. "Far fucking out. You fucked up my head with smack, baby. And now I'll fuck your cock with my head." She smiled like a retard and spread her legs. ... She was dead. Her throat was slashed with a hideous gash, a fucking mess of meat and blood. It made them all sick... but they all looked. "Clean this shit up," Abe said. He meant the smack. "We gotta get rid of all this shit. The cops are gonna search every inch of this shithole." "Abe!" Ricki shrieked. "Sylvia is dead! Who killed her? Who fucking killed her, Abe? What is Ron gonna say?" "Where the fuck is Ron?" Greg asked.