“Going in the car I didn’t think about it. I didn’t start thinking about it until we’d already started running. Thinking isn’t supposed to happen when you’re in action, but that’s not true. It isn’t true at all. I’m thinking I don’t like the way he shoots pool. Some guys when they shoot, they just don’t win. They shoot good until the money shot, the eight-ball shot, then they choke. He’s like that. Also, he won’t say where he got the caps and crimpers, things you just can’t buy! So there it is, I’m running my ass off, my heart up in my mouth, and that’s what I’m thinking. I’ve told Tom what I think. He said, So what, man? What if he is? Our karma’s too strong. What we’re doing is right. Even if he is a snitch, no way he’ll turn us over. But that’s what I’m thinking when I hear it. I’m running like a son of a bitch and I hear it. I’m already off the fucking campus sprinting for the car and I hear it. First there’s a thud, a really heavy thud, then a crackle, a long going-on-and-on crackle, then nothing, and I’m at the car scrambling to get in. Jesus Christ, Willy! John is yelling, We fucking did it! William! Tom is yelling at me. EEEEEEEYOW! he’s yelling. Get this fucker going! I’m yelling. The car is already going. EEEEEEEEYOW, Tom is yelling, we did it! We fucking did it! No shit! I’m yelling. John is pounding the seat. Willy, he yells, no shit! No fucking shit! I start yelling, too. Tom is driving like a son of a bitch.”