Chickens, We're On To You

Alright. You know what this is. The oldest scam in the Miami books. A band of chickens comes into town (down from Arkansas, or up from Key West) loaded up on cocaine. They’re driving by this little house listening to their loud music, smoking their reefers.

And some poor bastard comes out and asks them to keep it down. So they kill him. They fucking kill him and eat him. They move right in and start getting his mail. Before long, they’ve assumed his identity and taken over the house.

After the neighbors get used to having them around and suspicion dies down, they try to sell and move on to the next town.

Luckily the housing bubble’s burst. And I’ve figured out their lil’ scheme. Don’t worry. I’ve tipped off the Feds and local cops. These chickens are gonna swing for this. --Calvin Godfrey

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Frank Houston