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"There is something special about the relationship we all have with our mothers . . . "
Meet Pat McNab, forty-five years old, and about to embark on a homicidal rampage sparked by matricide. Or is he?
Pat spent endless hours chain-smoking and propping up the counter of Sullivan's Select Bar (not that Mrs. McNab knew anything about it-she and Timmy the barman didn't get along at all) or sitting on his mother's knee singing away together like some...
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