The calloused heart of the smiling killer exalted by Penuckle. This morning a giant was put to sleep.
The money and fame was not enough for his brain: his ego was fed by enormous monsters. These monsters are ogres and they sleep in El Monte and San Bernardino too.
There will always be vengeance but only God has the final say for Alpo. The quiet in the hushed corners of the twelve year old Porter boy and Rich Porter’s best friend is now gone into weathered minds, battered by yesterday and fishing for peaceful tomorrow.
Washington D.C. is mourning the drug war generals, victims and some how the quiet is untenable.
Careful, young people because once you get a taste of blood there is no bigger appetite except for the hopeful. This morning a drug czar is dead.