Well Frank settled down out in the Valley and he hung his wild years on a nail that he drove through his wife's forehead

He sold used office furniture out there on San Fernando Road and assumed a $30,000 loan at 15¼%, put a down payment on a little two-bedroom place

His wife was a spent piece of used jet trash: made good Bloody Marys, kept her mouth shut most of the time, had a little chihuahua named Carlos that had some kind of skin disease and was totally blind.

They had a thoroughly modern kitchen, self-cleaning oven, the whole bit. Frank drove a little Sedan. They were so happy

One night, Frank was on his way home from work, stopped at the liquor store. Picked up a couple Mickey's Big Mouths, drank 'em in the car on his way to the Shell station. He got a gallon of gas in a can. Drove home, doused everything in the house, torched it, parked across the street, laughing, watching it burn, all Halloween orange and chimney red

Then Frank put on a top 40-station, got on the Hollywood Freeway, and headed north

Never could stand that dog.