"You have to do the job and accept Daddy's pardon, Slashballs. Because of The Implication.” Acrid smoke jetted from Hunter’s nostrils as he finished the sentence, joining the previously exhaled vapors already curling around his head. “I’m no fool, Hunter. I made the...
He’s back.
Experts associated with the Federation of American Scientists, along with economists from the Marx Institute at Karolinska University in Sweden, have issued a study showing that Ukraine’s post-war economy stands to experience explosive growth from an unexpected boon:...
Like Special Agent Fox Mulder, I Want To Believe. Help me out.
Joe was a guy. Joe was a guy who meant what he said.
A friend…to the end.
What wistful memories do you have from your past?
One of the many tragedies of this pandemic, which will hopefully be recognized sooner rather than later, is that the total person-years of life lost due to causes not explained by the particular disease in question appears to actually exceed the loss to the disease itself.
His heart pounding, he couldn’t believe what had just happened. He had done what he did for The Resistance, but now that it was complete, he wondered whether he would ever be safe again. Maybe it’s time to pull up roots, he thought. Maybe I can start a coffee shop somewhere.
Turn off the hot water, get out of the bathtub, and for fuck’s sake put away that razor blade and go buy yourself some new patio chairs.
Slashballs snuffed out his smoke, dropping the butt into the receptacle by the door, and headed for the bar. At least the driver hadn’t heard the bullet hit. Probably no one knows there was a third party involved.
We always had our official parts down cold.
Dick was in a foul mood after the botched hit. The whole flight back, he had run and re-run the scenario over in his head, wondering if he could have got the shot off a little quicker.
Dick Slashballs crouched at the ledge of the roof, gazing through the optic at the door his target would be exiting soon, one block and twenty stories below.