Predator Press

[Mr. I]

I was in a Wal-Mart when I got the call from Legless Jim, somewhat bewildered. For some reason, there was nothing on the shelves except snow shovels and Twizzlers.

“Man I can’t believe this,” says Legless Jim over the cell phone.

“Believe what?” I says absently.

“Dude,” he says. “Somebody stole Brad Pitt’s legs!”

Something is wrong.

Something is really wrong.

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