The man in the back seat was singing, but in his addled state Rufus couldn't tell if it was a nursery rhyme or a sultry accapella by some long dead starlet.
Rufus sighed, no longer able to keep his head upright. His hands felt prickly. With his head tilted down, Rufus saw a familiar face. It was Prettyboy Linus. Prettyboy Linus was fellating him, seemingly unaware of a torrent of blood issuing from Rufus's abdomen. Rufus felt confused. His hands felt like they were tied to the seat. His head rolled, and he caught sight of the calendar suction cupped to the dashboard.
"It's the Fourteenth...isn't it. Yeah, the fourteenth!"
Prettyboy Linus stopped and looked up at Rufus with a kind smile, a rivulet of semen in the corner of his mouth. Blood stained his chin.
"Awww, o.k." Rufus relaxed. The tension had left him. His hands were numb, and in seconds he ejaculated into Prettyboy Linus's pretty, pretty mouth.
It sounded as if the man in the back seat was climaxing as well, and for a dim second, Rufus hoped that the man had. It would be right somehow.
The man in the backseat then fired his .38 into the back of Rufus's skull, causing a shower of brain, blood, and skull fragments to fall on Prettyboy Linus.
"Happy Birthday to you." The man finished.