first story post:
"(censored censored) good for nothings..." I slammed the glass on the table. "Never being glad with the job I do."
"Ahem, sir, don't bring your anger and bad grammar in here." said the whiney barkeep.
"if you knew the things I knew and was told to forget them, while having your badge stripped away and practically shoved up your (censored), you'd be angry too, and wouldn't give a crap about grammar."
"sir, i mean it. I don't own this bar, but I can sure as heck pretend too."
I stood and got my jacket. flicking him my finger as I walked out the door into the steady pelts of rain. It was cold that day. Very stereotypical day for a guy to loose his job. I didn't have a wife or kids, but if I did, it would be christmas. I wouldn't be able to go home and admit i had been kicked from the FBI, or that I wouldn't be able to by them christmas presents. But at the moment, I was single and not a father, and it was November 8th.
I am Willet Dowitcher. Until today, I had the job most people would dream of. I was sort of a rip-off of the popular X-files show, mixed with the movie Enemy of the State. But today, I was back to normal life. I could've been Joe Blow. But I wasn't. I still had my questions...
and I still knew that the truth was out there.
__________________
Weirdness is only skin deep
when hungry lies the bone
weirdos die and fade away
but hungries eat their own
-Willet-
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