I’ll be glad when you’re dead, you rascal you

Every bloodthirsty hoodlum, every trigger-happy gunman in the state of California had that song on his lips. I didn’t like it — I’m no music lover and, what’s more, I was the rascal they were trying to kill.

Me. Shell Scott. “Where there’s death, there’s hope” — that was gangdom’s newest slogan.

I was measured for a grave and I was supposed to share it with a gorgeous redhead named Coral. Man, this was just about the first time I haven’t been willing to share something with a gorgeous redhead.

Second printing August 1961