Marvin's note

HYPOTHESIS: I hate Suggs. Despise him. He mocks my ideas. Tells me they're "impractical" and "a symptom of an underlying mental issue." Well, at least I have ideas. At least I have an IMAGINATION.

THEORY: I hate him because for three years, I gave my sweat and tears and brain cells to that ungrateful son of a bitch, helping turn his boring ideas into a reality. But one day I asked him when he'd make me a full-time partner, and he said, "When pigs fly."

Well, I've done it. I've made pigs fly. In fact, when me and my new friends see him next, these little piggies are gonna fly right into his stupid face.

LAW: Suggs deserves to die. It will be my pigs that kill him.

I know just where to wait for him too. There's a rooftop across the street from his workshop, with a clear view of the road. As soon as he leaves to make his deliveries, I'll rain pork from above.

And when the piggy slams into his skull, and the broken glass cuts his skin, and the cut becomes infected, and then he dies weeks later due to a lack of available medical supplies and poor health infrastructure, everything he owns will be mine. As far as plans go, it's practically foolproof.