7:30 AM, June 8, San Antonio
There’s a lot of blood. Please send someone quickly.
She is old and incoherent.
This is AJ Man speaking.
My wife’s with her right now.
She’s talking about Florence Henderson riding an armadillo.
This is bad.
When the papers write about this tell them it’s M-A-N, just the one N.
Plenty of people add another N.
We came over to say hello. She was on the floor. She said, “It was an unnatural relationship those people had.”
Then she said “Imagine wearing an apron all those years.”
I don’t mind telling you I’m talking about Ann B. Davis.
Are you kidding?
It’s a story! About a lovely lady—
The blood is pancake shaped even, oh poor Ann!
No one’ll even notice will they.
Yes ma’am you’re right. I do.
She looks as gentle as ever, and ladylike too. She was so much prettier than they all let on.
My wife says she’s not breathing.
My wife is covered in blood.
Here comes the ambulance.
Life is so goddamned arbitrary don’t you think?