You find yourself in a cold field standing over a rapidly cooling body. The gun feels almost as uncomfortable in your hand as the can of gas in the trunk of your car is about to. Still burning is the only way, he has a lot of tatoos and you already used the hammer to knock all the teeth out. You taught this son of a bitch a lesson and set your house in order. Her body is next. You think, maybe the lake, and smile. The gun slides in your pocket soft and gentle.