Max butted out the cigarette with the heel of his shoe. Grinding the filter into the acrylic tile and leaving a permanent stain.
Maggie looked at him and frowned. Max just winked at her in a way that she understood it was a simple statement.
“Thank you Mr. Cube,” the priest told him. “Afterall, you know that it’s against the law.”
Max flashed the man a smile, a smile a shark would give as it approached it’s prey. “So is the big guy ready?”
“His holiness will see you shortly,” the priest seemed agitated that Max would refer to the Pope as the big guy….
Forgive the mess of this one… created under the influence of beer.
We can destroy what we have written but we cannot unwrite it.
A Clockwork Orange (1971)