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Route 69

The police officer opened the car door, and watched as a pool of blood spewed onto his new black loafers.
“Fuck,” he shouted as he looked down at his shoes.
The officer grunted and stomped his feet. He then peered into the car to get a better look at the victim. “Shit…” he whispered.
Pulling out his walkie talkie, he dialed for backup.
“Men, we have another highway hooker murder on route 69. I need you to come, quick.”

Shaking, the officer put his talkie back into his pocket, and turn to walk towards his car.
His focus was shifted however, as he noticed a piece of paper on his shoe. He bent over and peeled the soaking wet slip off.
“The trunk,” it read in thick black sharpie.
The officer shook his head and turned back towards the bleeding car.
“Alright you sick bastard. What did you leave for me…”

The officer approached the trunk, and in an instant a small man popped out of it, and slit his throat. He then watched, as his vitctim bled to death, curled up on the cement road.

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