Peggy Gets a New Kelvinator
If that son-of-a-bitch thinks he can buy me off with a new refrigerator, he’s got another think coming. I know he’s been doing the hanky panky with his secretary because he comes home every night smelling faintly of Shalimar, which I’m sure he bought her, and “Love That Red” lipstick on his collar, which I don’t wear, because that’s only for whores. That cad will get his tonight when I serve him up a little bit of rat poison in his pre-dinner martini, while I’m putting the finishing fluorishes on that new Wieneroni Casserole I’ve loaded down with strychnine. That asshole will never know what hit him.
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