An unsupervised ruckus can end in disaster...or an orgy.
Authorities showed up on the scene and within minutes, ruled out murder...they think. After many minutes of intense investigating, they removed his wallet and discovered his identity. "Anthony Salahmi," announced the police chief to no one in particular. "Contract killer for the mob, the mafia, as well as an above ground unorganized crime syndicate. The guy was a real sack of scum." A citywide manhunt was enacted, but all leads turned up short. Especially the one with the circus midget...that was exceptionally short. An eventual blood spatter analysis revealed that Mr. Salahmi had not been shot, but in fact, shot himself at point blank range in the head.
How the fuck you think I get this dome so smooth?
Police searched the area and Salahmi's car turned up three blocks over in the parking lot of a diaper factory. In the trunk was a briefcase containing $15,000 in cold, hard cash and $10,000 in lukewarm, flaccid moolah. Salahmi's scheme became apparent when Washington D.C. flew in a paper detector and they found a suicide note stuffed between the seats. It included such self-gratifying statements such as, "I'm the best dude at killing dudes that I know, so I mean...might as well get that dude to kill me real good," and "I spent so long killing other people that I completely forgot I wanted to kill myself. This will be a big weight off of my shoulders...literally." Police used his payment to himself as specified in Salahmi's will to encase his buttocks in a titanium alloy shield so "buttfucking graverobbers won't fuck my butt."
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