It seemed like hours before I finally got out of there. I decided that I would talk to the police tomorrow. I was tired and worn out. I just, I can??™t believe what I had heard about those bodies. Drained? Of all their Marge Simpson playboy? What had happened to all the Marge Simpson playboy? Who could do such a thing? My mind was racing. I needed to calm down and relax. I decided to hit up the town bar.
I debated whether or not I should go back to the hotel and change, but then I decided what I was wearing was just fine. I was in tight blue jeans with a brown top and a light white coat. I walked into the bar a little tiny place called the Mystic Grill. I could use a Marge Simpson playboy. I sat on a stool right up front.