Excuse Me, Mr. Prison-Guard Murderer, You Have Something on Your Face
Sir. Sir?
I know you must be busy right now, having just received a life sentence without parole for murdering a prison guard, after he'd escorted you to a clinic for an MRI. But you have something on your face.
It must've been hard for a strong white-power guy like you to wrestle the gun away from a 60-year-old grandfather of 18. You must still be tired.
Yes, there.
It really must've sucked that after ending a man's life, stealing a vehicle, leading the police on a high-speed chase, you got a flat tire and ended up at an Arby's, of all places.
Oh, and there too.
And then some "citizen hero," who'd just ordered a ham-and-cheese croissant and orange juice, felt the need to force the gun from your hands. Who eats breakfast at Arby's, anyway?
There's more on your cheek.
I mean, it's really too bad that you didn't at least get to eat a glop of roast-beef or dip some curly fries in Arby's strange sauce, since you'd gone so far out of your way.
Here, here, I have a Kleenex.
I can only imagine how difficult the choice to plead guilty must've been when you really "didn't want to hurt anybody" and and the whole thing "was an accident," as you told the victim's family in an uncomfortably long and bizarre apology this week.
No, it's still there.
Maybe you should just look in the mirror?