When a plot is uncovered by the FBI to murder you, I would hope that the feeling that rises to the surface of your being is not one of horror but the sublimely chill-itude that the used car salesman whose ex-wife tried to wack him seems to effortlessly possess ( he is totally soaking in some serious Dude) .
Personally, I would probably be a little miffed that someone I once loved wanted me to live out the plot to an episode of The Sopranos, but I can only hope that the inner peace that I am struggling to develop would be a beacon of hope to those whose spurned lovers are taking out personal loans to kill them (and the interest rates have never been lower I'm told) like this guy.
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