"Whoa, whoa, whoa.  It ain't goin a be that way.  We can't.  I'm stuck with what I got, caught in my own loop.  Can't get out of it.  Jack, I don't want a be like them guys you see around sometimes.  And I don't want a be dead.  There was these two old guys ranched together down home, Earl and Rich -- Dad would pass a remark when he seen them.  They was a joke even though they was pretty tough old bids.  I was what, nine years old and they found Earl dead in a irrigation ditch.  They'd took a tire iron to him, spurred him up, drug him around by his dick until it pulled off, just bloody pulp.  What the tire iron done looked like pieces a burned tomatoes all over him, nose tore down from skiddin on gravel."
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