from the novel written by Stephen King
Lloyd: Glad I wasn't that Bobby Terry. No sir, no way. The main man wanted that old fart's head without so much as a bruise on it. Wanted to send it back over the Rockies. And look what happened. That numbnuts puts two .45 slugs into his face. At close range. I guess he deserved what he got, but I'm glad I wasn't there.
Dayna: What happened to him?
Lloyd: Sweetbuns, don't ask.
Dayna: How did he know? The big guy?
Lloyd: He was there. Dayna: Just happened to be there?
Lloyd: Yeah. He just happens to be anywhere that there's trouble. Jesus Christ, when I think what he did to Eric Strellerton, that smartass lawyer me and Trashy went to L.A. with...
Dayna: What did he do?
Lloyd: He just looked at him. Eric was laying down all this funky shit about how he wanted to see the Vegas operation run... we should do this, we should do that. Poor old Trash—he ain't all the way together himself, you know—was just staring at him like he was a TV actor or something. Eric's pacing back and forth like he's addressing a jury and like it was already proved he was going to get his own way. And he says--real soft--'Eric.' Like that. And Eric looked at him. I didn't see nothing. But Eric just looked at him for a long time. Maybe five minutes. His eyes just got bigger and bigger... and then he started to drool... and then he started to giggle... and he giggled right along with Eric, and that scared me. When Flagg laughs, you get scared. But Eric just kept right on giggling, and then he said, `When you go back, drop him off in the Mojave. ' And that's what we did. And for all I know, Eric's wandering around out there right now. He looked at Eric for five minutes and drove him out of his mind. (he takes a long drag on his cigarette and crushes it out) Why are we talkin about bad shit like that?
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