Almost everybody I know has died, Grandma said. Bunch of wimps.
I got out of the elevator and confronted Mr. Wexler. Killing is wrong. We kill chickens, Mr. Wexler said. We kill cows. We kill trees. So big deal, we kill some drug dealers. It was hard to argue with that kind of logic because I like cows and chickens and trees much better than drug dealers.
My Spanish is limited to burrito and taco,