He's Crazy

He stared down the hallway of his tiny house, which ran straight from front door to back, no hidden corners. It felt safe. Best of all, this was a new neighborhood, no one was talking about him behind his back.

The TV was playing “The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly” again. This was his favorite escape.

“Hey, I can survive in the woods forever and no one can find me!” he tells the form on the couch.
“Really? Would you have a pet?”

She always asked crazy questions, but if you had to have a person sit and watch you every day, at least it should be a nice female to look at. He smiled. “I’d raise snails.”
“Like these?” she pointed to one of my six tanks of fish and snails. “What would you do with them?”

“Sell ’em. The pet stores pay good money for ’em.”
He’s told her this a million times before, but he loves thinking about money. “I’m gonna get my money back!” This made him angry, thinking about it. She tensed “Hey, look your favorite part!”

He turned to the western and laughed as Van Cleef gets shot.

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