"Hello?"He could smell the sharp, metallic tang of his present as he removed it and switched to the proper grip. The pistol, as yet unfired, was heavy with dark promise.
"This is Mr. Connors at 523 Woodlawn. I require a wife and one--no make that two children."
"Can you have them shipped next day air?"
"Oh? No shipping on Christmas? Well thank you anyway."
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