20. DEAD AT 21 - 2100 Today, Mandi Jackson emailed me from prison that I am her "only friend." Five years after I paid to fuck her raw at the Starlite. I finally managed to destroy everything in her life but me, as a calculated rational response to her not liking me. But Jesus fuck, what a Rube Goldberg device it took to get here. I got to fuck her 57 times before she fatted up. Mulrenin probably got to fuck her four times. Detective Sprague got to hook her like a little 3-inch flounder, the catch of a lifetime. And Prosecutor Stone got to fuck her the way dry little balding scumbags in government offices are confmed to. Creepy noodle Phil Archer is probably too dumb and desperate to ever get anything out of it. He already reached his Dilbert maximum. But wow, he sure is tough on crime. He let that animal who stole old people’s heirlooms, Julie Madara, out of prison as a reward for lying in court and victimizing a new person. Sick sick people. Chris Dahl got all the Dollhouse Dollars money. Adam Reiss got to fuck Carrie Rentz. And the Dollhouse credit- card whales got nothing. I didn't ask anybody's comment before I wrote this book. They all had three years to come out with the truth, and didn't. The chance of them starting with the truth today, is near zero. What is hidden is usually worse than what was revealed. And the truth of the sick aggression that took the life of Mandi May for sport and mediocre ambition, is worse than anything I have written here. Happy Christmas David, 2019 IV-lOO