the catcher in the rye

[usverg]

I'd walk down a few floors - holding onto my guts, blood leaking all over the place - and then I'd ring the elevator bell. As soon as old Maurice opened the doors, he'd see me with my automatic in my hand and he'd start screaming at me, in this very high-pitched, yellow-belly voice, to leave him alone. But I'd plug him anyway. Six shots right through his fat hairy belly.

The goddam movies. They can ruin you.