Perfect Alibi

The vendor of California, on behalf of independent chevron gas stations and standard stations throughout the West, invites you to... Let George do it. The perfect alibi, another adventure of George Valentine.

Personal notice, dangerous my stock and trade. If the heat's on and you can't seem to cool off, you got a job for me, George Valentine. Right full details. Dear Mr. Valentine, I hate my husband.

I hate him so much. I sat away at night wondering if I had the nerve to kill him. I'm a coward. I'm weak. I'm everything bad. Since, Paul, I am. But then that's my fault for marrying him.

Mr. Valentine, I have a chance to escape to get rid of him forever. If I keep my mouth shut, my husband will be dead inside of a few months. But I can't keep my mouth shut, can I? I can't be that bad.

Or can I? I'll be standing at the corner of 47th and Maple Drive at 2 o'clock this afternoon. Maybe she might have a new job. Yeah, maybe. If there was one in town, only there isn't.

Oh. Laurie F. You know, George, she sounds like such a mixed up person anyway. No, no, no, Brooks. See, this is the place she met, all right. And all we can do is just sit here and wait.

Yeah. Hey, mister. Go on, downtown. Give me a lift downtown. I'm sorry. Happy old day, if I stand here waiting for a bus. You've got to put the room. Okay, said I'm sorry. I'm not going anyplace.

Yeah, yeah. But you will be. What's sooner than a bus? Hey, get away from there. What about the sister? Look out! Hey, what about you? How about you? Well, hitchhikers are getting persistent, aren't they?