Operation: Valerie

The alarm clock woke Satyr up.

Satyr rose out of bed. It was 9 in the morning. He hardly ever got up at this time, but today was going to be a busy day for him. Months of planning had lead up to this day. Today would be the day, that Satyr would make up for a past mistake.

Satyr went out to the kitchen to fix some cereal. He walked in there to find Gweg, staring out the kitchen window.

Satyr: Are you still moping about what's her name?


Gweg didn't turn from the window. He held back tears as he said her name.


Gweg: Mindy. Her name was Mindy.

Satyr poured the cereal into his bowl and shrugged.


Satyr: I don't know why you're so upset about that. It's not like she was your actual girlfriend. Yeah, ok, your two best friends are dead, but hell, if you hadn't betrayed one of them, the other would still be alive.


Gweg didn't argue. He had been blaming himself over the death of Mindy. He still placed some of the blame on Satyr, but he knew his own actions paved the way to her death. He turned away from the window and walked into the front room.


Satyr sat down at the kitchen table and began eating his cereal.


Satyr: I'm going out today. I've got some business to take care of. Nothing big. Just some things. We need more milk, I'll pick us up some.


Gweg didn't reply. He had never before felt so empty inside. He knew living with Satyr was the cause of most of his troubles, but he could never bring himself to leave. He felt that whatever he had to offer the world was long gone, and the purpose of his life now was to be Satyr's unwilling sidekick.

Gweg was about ready to ask Satyr if he could tag along, but a knock at the door interrupted him.


Satyr: Get that. I'm not done with my cereal.


Gweg got up and answered the door.


Standing on the other side was a pretty brunette woman of 28 years who looked like she had been crying.


Brunette: Is Satyr here? I need to talk to him.


Upon hearing the voice, Satyr dropped his spoon into his bowl and stood up. He rushed to the living room.


Satyr: Sara! What are you doing here?


Sara: Our daughter, Satyr! Our daughter has been kidnapped!


Gweg snapped out of the trance he had been in all morning.


Gweg: What?



Ten minutes passed. Satyr had to calm Sara down while Gweg wrapped his head around the fact that Satyr had a daughter. After Sara calmed down, she told Gweg and Satyr how she found her home had been broken into and her daughter gone.


Gweg: You have a daughter?


Satyr: Yes, I do. She has custody of her.


Sara: Her name is Valerie. Here, they left a note.

Sara handed Satyr the Ransom Note.


Dear Satyr,

We have your Daughter. We know that you are a wealthy person. We want 5 million dollars. We will give you till 3 pm today to secure the money. Then we will call you. NO COPS! or your daughter dies. If you do not get the money, she will die. But not before we have our way with her.

Sincerely,

The Kidnappers.

Satyr crumpled the note up and tossed it behind him.


Sara: What are you doing! That's evidence.


Satyr: Need I remind you Sara, that we are no longer married? That means that you don't get to come busting on my door every time you have a little problem.


Sara: Our daughter!


Satyr: There is no "Our". You have full custody. If you had gotten remarried like I told you to, you would have a man in your life to help you deal with this now.


Gweg stood up and got in front of Satyr.


Gweg: Hey jackass! That letter was addressed to you. That means you're the reason why her daughter was kidnapped. Instead of coming up with excuses to not help, you should be coming up with ways to help her. This is your flesh and blood too.


Satyr: That has never been confirmed.


Gweg: You're unbelievable.


Sara: I knew it would be too much to ask for your help. I could never count on you. I'll deal with this myself.


Sara headed for the door. Gweg put his arm on her shoulder to stop her.


Gweg: I'll go with you. We can head back to your place to look for clues. I'll help you get your daughter back.


Satyr: Well look at Nick and Nora Charles, off to solve another crime. You kids have fun.


Gweg: Fuck off.


Gweg and Sara went out the door.


Satyr laughed, despite himself. His phone rang. He answered.

Satyr: Yeah?


Man on the other line: The package has been delivered.


Satyr: I'll be right there.


Satyr hung up. He smiled and got dressed.


Satyr: Time to get this party started.




Gweg and Sara were driving to her house.


Gweg: My name is Gweg, by the way.

Sara held out her hand for Gweg to shake it.


Sara: Sara Grant.


Gweg let a few moments of silence pass.


Gweg: Why Satyr?


Sara sighed.


Sara: It's a long story.


Gweg: Go ahead. It'll help keep your mind from worrying to the point of sheer insanity.


Sara: I can tell you lived with Satyr for a while now.


Gweg: Too long.


Sara: Ok, we met ten years ago....


The year was 1999 and I had just turned 18 years old. My friend Tanya called me up wanting to spend the Saturday with me. We just went shopping in town and decided to have lunch at Fazoli's. It was still opened up back then. Anyway, we were talking about the usual, school and boys, when he came in.


I had only seen a satyr in pictures, but when I saw the real thing, I was struck. The way his legs moved, the confidence he had, I couldn't take my eyes off of him. He was with his friend too. That creepy guy, he looked as though he could have been Satyr's brother, if Satyr was a human. But there was something menacing about him.


Tanya noticed them too. She always had a thing for bad guys and took a liking to the friend. The whole hooves thing turned her off of Satyr.


They ordered their food and sat down at a table not too far from us. I could see them talking. Satyr began to look in our direction, making eye contact with me. I blushed. He saw this and smiled and turned back to his friend. They talked a little more and then did something weird. I think they played Rock, Paper, and Scissors. Their order was up, Satyr's friend went to get it and Satyr walked over to our table.


Satyr: How are you ladies doing today?


Me: Good.


Satyr: I'm going to be blunt. My friend and I couldn't help but notice you two very attractive women. And if you aren't creeped out, we would like to join you for lunch.


I looked over at Tanya. She looked up at Satyr's friend who was heading back with the food. She nodded.


Me: We would love to have your company.


Satyr grinned and motioned his friend to the table.


Satyr: Allow me to introduce ourselves, my name is Satyr and this is my good friend Richard.


Richard didn't bother to look at me, instead he just looked at Tanya, almost like a predator eyeing his prey.


Richard: I am very pleased to meet you.


Satyr: And what are your names?


Me: I'm Sara and that is Tanya.


They sat down. Satyr sat right across from me. Up close, he was very cute and there was this playful innocence about him. Like there was something naughty trying to get out.


Satyr: Tell us about yourselves.


Me: Well, we're both seniors in high school. We're 18. I work at a gift shop and Tanya's parents are rich.


Tanya laughed. Satyr gave her a look, but didn't seem that interested. He looked back at me. There was something in his eyes, like he had discovered something new, something very intriguing and wanted to know everything about it. That's how he looked at me. No one had ever looked at me that way before. He brought my self esteem to an all new high that day.


I had to know more about him.


Me: So, what do you guys do?


Satyr: I'm a jack of all trades. Right now I'm designing websites for people on the Internet.


Me: Cool. We got the Internet at our school finally. I wanted to make a website. Maybe you could help me out on that sometime.


Satyr: Absolutely.


Tanya: And what do you do, Richard?


Richard: I'm a hunter.


Tanya looked as though she were talking to a rock star. The girl had some real problems.


Tanya: What kind of stuff do you hunt?


Richard: Whatever puts up a challenge.


We finished our lunch and went out to the parking lot. They walked us to my car. Richard and Tanya went to the driver side and began talking to each other. Satyr opened the door for me.


Satyr: So, what do you think about dating older guys who also happen to be half goat?


Me: I've never really given it any thought.


Satyr: That's good. People might think you were strange.


Me: They already do.


He smiled at this and pulled out a card.


Satyr: That's my number. Give me a call whenever you want me to help you with your web page. And don't be afraid to call me for any other reasons too.


Me: Thanks.


I got into the car, waited for Tanya to finish with Richard, and we took off. Two days later, I called Satyr up and we started going out. My parents weren't happy, but I didn't care. He was funny, smart, and he treated me like I was the only person who mattered.


Of course, his buddy, Richard, ended up knocking Tanya the next day after we all met. She ended up dropping out of school. He broke up with her immediately, but still held got part custody of the kid. He took after his father a bit too much I think. Tanya and I didn't stay close friends. She became a bit of a whore. The last time we talk was when Richard went missing. he went out hunting and never came back.


But yeah, that's how Satyr and I met.


Gweg listened to the story. He didn't blame Sara for falling for Satyr. He knew that Satyr had that way about him. But there was one part of the story that didn't click.

Gweg: Satyr told me he never knew Richard had any kids.

Sara: And you believed him?


Gweg: Yeah. I should have known better.


Sara: How did you meet him?


Gweg didn't want to get into that.


Gweg: He put an ad in the paper for a new roommate and I answered it.


Sara: Oh. Here we are. This is my house.


Sara and Gweg got out of the car and went inside.


Sara: I'll show you her room.


As they walked through the house, Gweg noticed a book case. It was filled with Shakespeare, Dostoevsky, Dickens, King, Crichton, Hemingway, Twain, and a lot of other great books.


Gweg: You have a great selection of books here.


Sara: Thank you.


They went into Valerie's room.




Meanwhile, Satyr arrived at an auto repair garage. The garage was located in the beaten down part of town. Satyr parked his car behind the shop so it would be out of view from the street. He went inside.



An man of 45 greeted him. The man was Mitchell Davidson. Satyr hired him to get Valerie. He then kept him on as security.


Mitchell: Hello Mr. Satyr.


Satyr: Howdy. She's here?


Mitchell: Yes, Valerie is in the main garage.


Satyr and Mitchell entered into the main garage. It smelled of of grease and burnt oil. Valerie was right in the middle.


Satyr: Did you have any trouble getting her here?


Mitchell: Not a problem sir. She hardly made a sound.


Satyr: That's my baby.


Satyr walked up to Valerie. He began to caress her.


Satyr: Don't worry. I know you don't look like much now, but after the boys get here and make you over, you are going to look just like I always pictured you should.

Satyr turned to Mitchell.


Satyr: Speaking of, when are they getting here?


Mitchell: They should arrive soon.


Satyr turned back to Valerie.


Satyr: I'm going to leave you in here, but don't worry, Daddy will be in the next room.


Satyr and Mitchell went into the office.

Mitchell: What about your roommate? You said he might be a problem.

Satyr: Don't worry about him. He's off on a wild goose chase.

A few minutes later, a group of 7 men came into the garage.


Satyr: Gentlemen, I'm glad you could make it. You got my down payment right?


One of the guy's spoke up.


Guy: Yes we did.

Satyr: Good. You guys know the plan. She's right through there. Have your way with her. If there isn't one scratch on her and you make her beautiful the way I want her to look, then you'll be getting paid double what I promised you.


The men smiled and made their way into the main garage.


Mitchell: It'll take them a few hours to get it done. The doctor should be here by then.


Satyr: Good. These guys are here to make her beautiful, but the doctor is going to be doing the real transformation on her.


Mitchell: Yes sir.


Satyr: Something troubling you, Mitch?


Mitchell: I have a bit of a moral dilemma with what you are doing here. This goes against nature.


Satyr: If you have a problem, then I suggest you leave now, but don't forget your role in all of this.


Mitchell: I understand. You are paying me well, so I will stay and not voice my opinion about this anymore.


Satyr laughed.


Satyr: Money always wins over morals. That's the way of the world.


Mitchell: If I may sir, what inspired all of this? I know that Valerie is your daughter, but what did she do to warrant this?


Satyr: You really want to know? Well, I guess I can tell you. We do got a lot of time to kill. Alright, it all starts with my ex-wife.



Ten years ago, me and my buddy Richard were out driving around town. We were in the middle of an argument.


Richard: You don't know what you are talking about.


Me: I damn well do know. You are so full of yourself to realize how fucking wrong you are. I used to think you were a smart person, but now I see the only reason you hardly ever talk is because you know that 99% of what you say is so fucking stupid that if you dare let the comments out of your mouth, the whole world will know what a retard you are. So, that's why you only let the 1% of the smart things you say out into the open. Well, this time you fucked up real good. You let slip a dumb one, and you can't take it back.


Richard: All I said was Mr. Pibb tastes better than Dr. Pepper.


I let it drop. I started to feel sorry for him. He was so delusional sometimes.


Me: I'm hungry. Let's grab something to eat.


Richard: Where?


Me: Fazoli's.


Richard: That Italian place?


Me: Yeah. that's right. They have free bread sticks.


Richard: Do they have Mr. Pibb.


Me: Don't get smart. That's not your style.


We went to Fazoli's As we walked in, I could see out of the corner of my eye, two young girls sitting at a table. They were watching us enter.


We ordered our food and sat down.


Me: So, what's the action tonight?


Richard: I'm in the mood for anything.


I looked at the girls at the table. I caught the eye of the brunette. Pretty looking thing.


Me: What about those two girls over there?


Richard looked.


Richard: Eh. They're alright. I'm in a hunting type of mood. We can take them out to the woods.


Me: Are you crazy? You want to kill those girls. Trust me, they are young school girls begging for some action. I do have a nose for these things.


Richard: I feel like shooting my gun tonight.


Me: So do I, but not the gun you have in mind. I say we sex them up.


Richard: Hunt.


Me: There's only one way to settle this. Rock, Paper, Scissors. Let's go.


We did the little game. I held out rock, he held out scissors. I won.


Me: Our order's up. Go get it while I get us seats over there.


We got up and I made my way over there. Introduced ourselves. The one I wanted was named Tanya. I could tell she would put out the first night, but I could see she had her eyes on Richard. So, I tried to do a little switcheroo and make her jealous of the attention I was giving her friend Sara, but to no avail. It didn't matter, I could tell the Sara was smitten with me, so I began to work my magic.


We talked about who knows what. I think I came up with some lie about me being a webpage designer. It didn't matter. I could tell she wanted me. So, we began dating. A little over a year later, we got married.


Mitchell: Really? I never took you as the marrying type.


Satyr: Well, these things happen. Especially when you lose a bet.


Mitchell: What bet was that?


Satyr: I bet Richard that Gore would win the election. If I won, he had to marry whatever girl he was seeing at the time, and if I lost, I had to marry Sara.


There was a knock on the office door. Satyr answered it. It was Dr. Wicklund. He was an older man of 50, bald, wearing a dark overcoat.


Satyr: Ah, Dr. Wicklund, you're here early.


Dr. Wicklund: Of course. When you first told me of this project, I must admit I was jealous that I never thought of it first!


Satyr: You flatter me doctor. I trust you have brought all the medical equipment.


Dr. Wicklund: Absolutely! I have everything we need. Now, where is Valerie?


Satyr: She's right through there.


Dr. Wicklund took a look into the garage.


Dr. Wicklund: Ah, she's beautiful. She's perfect. As soon as those men are done applying the cosmetics, we will begin the real science.

Satyr: Have you figured out what we are going to do with the, uh, "unwanted parts"?

Dr. Wicklund: Trust me dear Satyr, I have it all worked out.


Satyr: Good.







Gweg and Sara were done looking over the house. Gweg never told Sara exactly what he was looking for.


He was looking for evidence that Satyr had been there. He found none. Whoever took her daughter knew how to cover his tracks. Gweg knew he was in over his head.


Gweg: If I had the money, I would be glad to hand it over, but I don't think this is about money.


Sara: What do you mean?


Gweg: I think Satyr is behind this.


Sara: Why? Why would he kidnap a daughter he has never had any interest in.


Gweg: It's just his style. He said he was up to something today. Hold on, let me call me our next door neighbor.

Gweg pulled out his cell phone and called Vernon, the man who lived in the apartment next to Gweg and Satyr.

Gweg: Hey Vernon, it's Gweg. I was wondering if you could knock on my door and see if Satyr is home. Oh, he did? Thanks.

Gweg put his phone away and looked angry.


Gweg: Vernon said Satyr left not too long after we did.


Sara: He left that ransom note to throw us off, didn't he? That note was just his style. But what's he up too?

Gweg: I don't want to imagine. But what ever it is, it's not good.


Sara: Oh go, he's probably doing something horrible to her.

Sara began to cry. Gweg hugged her.


Gweg: You have my promise Sara. Whatever he's up to, I will put a stop to it.


Sara: How are we going to find him? He could be anywhere.


Gweg: I have an idea.


Gweg opened his cell phone back up and made a call.



Detective Ben Watterson was sitting at his desk.



On the wall facing the desk, was a picture of Satyr. In the 20 years Det. Watterson has been on the force, he has never encountered anyone he has hated as much as Satyr.


The more he learned about his new white whale, the more he hated him. He waited for just one opportunity to catch him doing something nefarious, so he could bring him to justice once and for all.


His phone rang.


Det. Watterson picked it up and couldn't believe he was hearing the voice on the other end of the line.


Gweg: Det. Watterson. This is Gweg. Do you remember me.


Det. Watterson: All to well. You are Satyr's friend.


Gweg: No, I'm his roommate, not his friend. And I think he's up to something. I need your help.


Det. Watterson: What do you think he's up to?


Gweg: I think he kidnapped his own daughter.


Det. Watterson: Valerie's been kidnapped?


Gweg: You know who his daughter is?


Det. Watterson: I know a lot of things about him. Has Sara reported this to the police yet?


Gweg: She was afraid to due to the ransom note.


Det. Watterson: I see. I'll tell you what, I think I might know where he is. But, I need to know you are telling the truth. I'll head over to Sara's house right now. It'll be 30 minutes.


Watterson hung up. He smiled. This might be the answer to his prayers.



Back at Sara's house.


Gweg: The detective is on his way.


Sara: What if Val was really kidnapped by people wanting money? They said not to call the cops.


Gweg: Don't worry. Watterson will come alone. He hates Satyr with a passion. If Satyr is behind this, Watterson will help. He's probably been keeping tabs on Satyr ever since that night with the autistic vampires.


Sara: Autistic vampires?


Gweg: You don't want to know. Watterson will be here in half an hour. I'm curious, why did you marry Satyr?


Sara: You're having a hard time understanding my involvement with him.


Gweg: To say the least.


Sara sat down on her couch and laughed. She motioned Gweg to sit next to her. He did.


Sara: It was the funniest thing. It was November of 2000. We were taking our Wednesday walk through the park and he starts going off on this rant about George Bush getting elected. He said it was a conspiracy and how it was the worst thing that could ever have possibly happened. Then after all that, he gets on his knees and proposes to me. It was the most random thing and it caught me off guard. I said yes. He started to wince, like he was choking back tears. And that was the thing with him. The randomness. I never knew what to expect and I loved it. In hindsight, I loved being with him more than I actually loved him. Do you understand what I mean by that?


Gweg: Yes I do.


Sara: Of course, it all ended when I got pregnant.


January 2001


I had missed my period. I waited 3 weeks until I took a test. I knew what the results were going to be, but I some doubt. Wishful thinking really. I wasn't ready for kids yet and I thought long and hard about Satyr being a father. I knew it was a bad idea, but I thought maybe he would settle himself down once hew knew he was going to be a father.


I was wrong.


Satyr: You're what?


Me: I'm pregnant.


Satyr: Are you sure it's not something you ate.


Me: No. It's from something that went up me, not down.


Satyr: Well, is it mine?


Me: Who else's would it be. You told me you could get me pregnant and you did.


Satyr: If I told you I could shove a fly up there and make you sprout wings, would you believe that too?


Me: I know you told me the truth. You are the only one I have ever been with.


Satyr: And I'm supposed to take your word for it?


Me: You love me and trust me, don't you?


Satyr: Are those my only options?


Me: You are unbelievable. I was hoping you'd be happy and want to be a good father.


Satyr: A good father? Ha! I'd rather have a good corned beef sandwich than a child. You should do us all a favor and abort that thing as soon as you can.


Me: Abortion. This is your answer.


Satyr: It's cheaper than raising this thing.


Me: Asshole.


Satyr: I think it's a little to late for that alternative. But, if you want to keep this thing, you had better get ready to face the consequences.


And we cruised along in our relationship. Then I found out the gender of the baby and that was the tip of the iceberg for him. We got divorced three months later. I took him to court to get alimony and child support. But he had a real good lawyer with him. All I ended up with was full custody of the baby. But that was alright, she's all I ever needed. Satyr would call me up once a month to tell me to get remarried.


Gweg: Why would he do that?


Sara: I have no idea.


There was a knock on the door. It was Detective Watterson.


Det. Watterson: I'm glad to see you here, Gweg. I hope this isn't another game you two are playing.


Sara: Sir, my daughter was taken. If you know where Satyr is, please tell us, we'll go there ourselves.


Det. Watterson: I'm sorry to hear about your daughter. Fine. Satyr leased out an out of work automotive repair shop two months ago. The people who live around it keep to themselves. It's a good place to do something if you don't want people nosing around.


Gweg: Let's go.


Det. Watterson: I'll follow. If he did kidnap her, I'm taking him in.



Back at the garage.


Satyr and Mitchell were in the garage. Dr. Wicklund was looking over his medical equipment.


Satyr: I can't wait to see him work those tools. It's going to be art.

They walked back into the office and sat down.

Mitchell: You still haven't told me what this is really all about.


Satyr: You see, it's simple. Sara had a daughter.


Mitchell: And that means what?


Satyr: After Sara told me she was pregnant, I was furious of course. I stuck around, trying to figure out ways to get back at her, but when I found out she was having a girl, I knew the kid couldn't be mine.


Mitchell: How so?


Satyr: There is a 1% chance of a human or a nymph getting pregnant with a female after conceiving with a satyr. We get our women pregnant with healthy male satyrs.


Mitchell: I see.


Satyr: Of course, after finding out she was having a girl, a plan formed in my mind.

April 2001


I met up with my buddy Richard to talk about my predicament.


Me: I need to get this bitch back for dragging me along with this ruse.


Richard: Just let it go. Seems like you have a "Get out Of Jail Free" card.


Me: No, there's a still a chance this kid could be mine.


Richard: You already told her you wanted a divorce. I'm surprised it took you this long. Our bet was you had to marry her, not stay married to her.


Me: What?


Richard: Yeah, you could have gotten a divorce the next day, you still would have honored the bet.


Me: Why didn't you tell me this sooner?


Richard: I thought you already figured that part out.


Me: Screw it.


I sat there. Staring off into space. Then it struck me.


Me: I got it!


Richard: What?


Me: When the kid gets old enough, I'll kidnap her and turn her into a satyr!


Richard: What?


Me: Think about it. She wants to fuck around with me. Us satyr's aren't good enough for her anymore. Satyr's are good enough to fuck, but not to raise. You know, she would always go to the bathroom after we had sex, now I know why. Probably taking some drugs to counteract conception. And that's why. So, I'm going to give her the satyr she never wanted.


Richard: Sounds reasonable.


Me: I just need a good lawyer for the divorce.


Richard: I have a website you can go to.


And that's that. I hired a lawyer, his prices were reasonable, and I won in court. She got full custody. And Here we are today.


Mitchell: But that doesn't explain...

He was cut off by Dr. Wicklund running into the room.


Dr. Wicklund: The transformation is complete.


Satyr: Thank you.


Satyr looked into the garage.


Satyr: My dream came true. Ok, cover her up for now. Let her settle into her new role in the world.


There was a pounding on the door.

Satyr: Mitchell, see who that is.


Mitchell looked out the window.


Mitchell: It's your roommate. He's with another man and a woman. The man looks like a cop.


Satyr: How did he find me? Don't let them look in the garage!


Satyr went to the door. He opened it just a little and stepped outside.


Satyr: Gweg, Sara, and Watts! What brings you all out here?


Gweg: Don't play stupid. Where is she?


Satyr: Who?


Sara: Our daughter!


Satyr: How should I know. She was kidnapped wasn't she? I thought you guys were out looking for her.


Gweg: We are, and we wound up here. Where is she?


At this time, Mitchell snuck around from the back and hid behind Gweg's car. He brought one of the workers from the garage with him. The watched the confrontation.


Mitchell whispered to the worker.


Mitchell: If this gets violent, I want you to grab the blond guy.


Worker: Got it.


Det. Watterson walked up to Satyr.


Det. Watterson: Listen here Satyr. We can go about this two ways. One: You take us in there and give us the girl. Two: I crack open your fucking skull and we go in there and get the girl.


Satyr: And I thought you were here to make friends.


Det. Watterson grabbed Satyr and pucked him against the wall.


Mitchell and the worker ran from behind the car. Mitchell grabbed Watterson and threw him off of Satyr. The worker punched Gweg in the stomach.


Sara: Stop this! I just want Valerie back.


The worker stopped attacking Gweg.


Worker: Valerie? It's in the garage.


Gweg coughed and looked at the worker.


Gweg: It?


Satyr: Shut up. Don't say another word.


Everyone was looking at Gweg and Satyr now. Det. Watterson used the distraction as an opportunity to knock Mitchell out. He then pulled the gun out of his holster and yelled out.


Det. Watterson: Satyr! Take us in the garage right now!


Satyr: Fine. Fine! Let's go.


The went into the garage.


Satyr opened the door and showed them all Valerie.


Satyr: There, there she is.


Gweg: What is that?


There was a 24 foot U-Haul truck covered in a tarp in the middle of the garage.


Sara: Is that a truck? Is Valerie in there?


Satyr laughed.


The tarp began to move. Dr. Wicklund stepped out of the back of the truck.


Dr. Wicklund: Excellent. We have an audience to unveil our creation.


Det. Watterson went up to the truck and looked inside.


Det. Watterson: What is all this? Where's Valerie?


Satyr shook his head. He went up to the truck and removed the tarp.


Everone stared in disbelief.


Whatever decals that were on the truck identifying it as a U-Haul were removed. In it's place, were two toddlers playing with alphabet blocks. Below them were a group of alphabet blocks on a row spelling out somethine.


Gweg: Abortion-mobile?


Satyr: Yes. This is the Abortion-mobile.


Sara: That guy said Valerie was in here.


The worker stepped into the garage.


Worker: Yeah. He named the truck Valerie.


Gweg: You named this thing after your daughter.


Satyr: She's what inspired this whole thing.


Sara: Where is she?


Satyr: I already told you, I don't know.


Gweg: Do you even care?


Satyr: Nope.


One of the workers, who were in charge of repainting the truck and putting the medical equipment in, snuck out of the garage and got on his phone.


Worker: Hey. It's me. Yeah, this guy ain't goning to pay for his daughter back. Abort this whole plan. I don't care, dump in front of this place if you want.


Gweg: Come one Sara, let's go back to your house and see if Watterson can find anything.


Det. Watterson: Yeah. Let's go.


He went up to Satyr.


Det. Watterson: I'm going to nail you for something. Mark my words. I will get you.


Satyr: If you ever get your wife pregnant, you knw who to call.


Satyr walked with them out to their cars.


Satyr: Don't tell anybody about what you saw here. I want this to be a surprise to the community.


Gweg: We have bigger things to worry about right now.


They all stopped when they heard the screeching of tires. An unmarked van swerved around the corner. It slowed down as it came up to the garage. The side door opened up, and a masked man threw something out.


It was the body of a young girl. It rolled a few feet and stopped in front of the group. The girl was dead.

Sara scremed out.


Sara: Valerie! Oh my god! My baby!


She jumped down to the body and held it in her arms.


A few moments later, Satyr silently walked over to her and kneeled beside her.


He held her close to him for a few minutes then whispered soemthing in her ear.



Satyr: This never would have happened if you had gotten an abortion like I told you to.





The End.

Funeral Follies

Satyr woke up to find Gweg in the kitchen, staring out the window. Gweg looked upset.

Satyr: What's wrong with you?

Gweg motioned to the paper on the table.

Satyr looked at the paper. He neglected to read the headline and stared at the picture on the front page. It had a beautiful young woman in it holding hands with an older woman. Both of them were crying.

Satyr: Who is that? She is hot as hell!

Gweg: That's Mindy Roberts. Her husband, James, was killed over in Iraq a few days ago.

Satyr: Really. Well, I'll be more than happy to console her.

Gweg turned from the window to face Satyr. It was now clear to Satyr that Gweg had been crying.

Gweg: Listen you prick, her and her husband were very good friends of mine back in high school, and I'd appreciate it if you kept your crude comments to yourself about it.

Satyr: Fine Gweg, I'll say no more. I'm sorry for your loss.

Gweg: Thank you.

Satyr: If you guys were such good buddies, how come they never been here.

Gweg: Like I would ever subject them to you.

Satyr: Well, you should have, it might have toughened that boy right up. Get him prepared for the big nasty war.

Gweg turned away from Satyr and sighed. Satyr always had lousy timing. Satyr had been on the campaign trail with John McCain. After the election was over, Satyr went into hiding for a month until things cooled down. When Satyr had arrived home yesterday, he explained to Gweg that several Republican supporters were trying to track him down.

Satyr: Just because I told McCain to choose Palin as his running mate, all of the sudden, I'm the bad guy.

Gweg couldn't complain about this. He was an Obama supporter. And it was nice to have the
apartment to himself for all of those months. He also finally got to spend time with some friends. Mindy Roberts being one of those friends. She had needed someone to be there for her while James was over serving in Iraq.

At the table, Satyr had skipped past the article on James and went right to the Classifieds.

Satyr: Well, since I'm no longer a Campaign Saboteur, I'd better find myself a new job.

Gweg left from the window and grabbed his jacket and keys.

Gweg: I'm going out for a drive. I need to clear my head.

Satyr: Could you pick up some beef jerky?

Gweg walked out the door before answering.



The Day Before the Wake.

Gweg had called Mindy up and asked about the arrangements for the funeral. Gweg offered her all of his support and told Mindy he would give a eulogy. After the call, Gweg began to look through his closet to find the clothes he was going to wear.

Satyr had walked past his door and snuck a peek at what Gweg was doing.\

Satyr: Whatcha up to Gweg?

Gweg: I'm getting my clothes for the funeral.

Satyr: Whose?

Gweg: James Roberts'.

Satyr: Oh yeah, that one. Hey, I'm going to that one too!

Gweg Stopped looking through his closet and turned around to Satyr.

Gweg: What do you mean you are going to the funeral? You didn't know them. You have no business being there.

Satyr: Au contraire. It is my business being there.

Gweg: How so?

Satyr: Does the name Stacy Wexler mean anything to you?

Gweg: That's James' sister. How do you know her?

Satyr: She hired me.

Gweg: To do what?

Satyr laughed and motioned to Gweg's bed.

Satyr: You might want to have a seat. Seems like you good friend Mindy was up to no good while her hubby was out fighting for her very freedom.

Gweg: Just tell me what this is about.

Satyr: Your dead friend's sister hired me to investigate her sister-in-law. Stacy is under the distinct impression that Mindy was fooling around with someone while James was in Iraq. And she wants me to find out who.

Gweg held his face with his hands. He couldn't believe what he was hearing.

Gweg: This is a lot of stuff you're feeding me here. First off, why would Stacy hire you?

Satyr: I told you I needed a new job. So I became a private investigator.

Gweg: People don't become private investigators over night.

Satyr: I already have all of the licenses and permits to become one. I just had to open up shop this morning. And Mrs. Wexler just happened to be my first client.

Gweg: Fine. But why does she have you investigating at the funeral?

Satyr: I'll be at the funeral and the wake. Stacy wasn't to keen on the idea, but once I explained to her that that would be the best time to observe Mindy, because it's when she'll be most vulnerable and have her guard down, she was up for it.

Gweg: I just can't believe she would have someone like you there at her brother's funeral.

Satyr: She is obviously angry and distraught. How dare this floozy go taking it around town when her husband is putting his life on the line!

Gweg: You just wait one second, you have no proof she was doing that.

Satyr: Oh, but I'll get it. And Satyr's Sleuth Service will be the number one investigation agency in town.

Satyr walked away from Gweg's room, leaving Gweg to sit on his bed stunned. Gweg knew about Mindy's adultery, and wondered how Stacy had found out about it. Gweg was not worried about Satyr discovering anything, but more worried about Satyr making a catastrophe of the services.

He had to tell Mindy that Stacy knew about the affair. Gweg tried calling, but got a busy signal. He would have to tell her tomorrow.

Meanwhile, Satyr went to his room and began to gather his things for the wake. He wasn't trying to find any clothes, he would wear his usual outfit. Satyr was digging out his spying equipment. Once he had all of his tools out, Satyr looked at the picture of Mindy Roberts he had posted on his wall.

Satyr: You are going down, bitch.



The Day of the Wake

Gweg had gotten up early. He wanted to look as nice as possible. James had been a very good friend to Gweg in high school. It was Gweg who also introduced Mindy to James. After high school. James and Mindy had moved away so they could both attend the same college. They got married during that time. James had also dropped out to join the army. Gweg kept in contact with them the whole time. He was thrilled when they had moved back into town two years ago. But once James had been medically cleared from a leg injury, he had been shipped out to Iraq.

Once Gweg was dressed, he looked over the speech he was going to give at the funeral tomorrow. He made some changes and told Satyr he was ready to go.

Satyr came out, wearing nothing but his trench coat and hair that looked like he had just gotten out of bed. Satyr brushed his hair down with his hands. He went back into his bedroom and came back out, holding a briefcase.

Gweg: What is that?

Satyr: Equipment. You may be going to this thing to have a good time, but I'm going there because it's my job.

Gweg: I'm not going there to have a good time. It's my friend's wake.

Satyr: Why do they call it a wake? The guy is clearly not.

Gweg: Don't start in. Let's just go to this thing.

Satyr and Gweg got into their car and headed to the wake.

On their way, they noticed signs businesses had put up, showing their support for James.

As Satyr drove by them, all he could do was shake his head and sigh.

Gweg: What's the matter with you.

Satyr: That.

He pointed at one of the signs.

Gweg: Why do you have a problem with that? I think it's very nice and respectful.

Satyr laughed.

Satyr: Respectful? You are so naive.

Gweg: How so?

Satyr: So, all of these places just unanimously decided to go out and place their "respect" for a guy they didn't know.

Gweg: Why do you have to be so cynical? People can do nice things without some ulterior motive.

Satyr scoffed and pointed at the McDonald's sign.

Satyr: Look at that one. The have two reader boards up. The one on top says "God Bless the fallen soldier and his family" and the bottom one says "Try a Big Mac for only a $1.99". You see, there is no difference there. It's all called advertising. They are saying, "Yeah, we feel sad for the poor guy too, now buy our burger." They don't even bother to put his real name up. They don't care. Just one less customer down, time to rack in some more.

Gweg: You got it all wrong.

Satyr: Do I? You damn well know not every store in this town thought about putting a sign up until somebody else did. All it takes is one business to put a sing up and the rest fall into place. "Well, hell, oh Larry's Hardware put up a RIP sing for that guy that got killed in Iraq, we best put one up to so we don't look like insensitive jerks." You see, it's about business. Speaking of which, I'm hungry for a Big Mac now, they are going to have food at this wake right?

Gweg: Yes.

Satyr: People standing around eating food next to a dead guy. I love it.

They arrived at the funeral home.

Satyr: Ok. Here's the story. When people ask what I'm doing here, you tell them that I am your grief counselor and I'm here because you really need the support.

Gweg: That's asinine.

Satyr: It's the story, or do you want me to tell people the truth; that while your good buddy was out fighting an insurgence in Iraq, his wife was back here having an insurgence of her own?

Gweg: Despite that being the worst euphemism ever, I don't want you spreading around that lie. So, yes, I'll go along with your story.

Satyr: Good. Let's get in there before the clean out the buffet.

Satyr and Gweg entered the funeral home and signed the guest registry.

Satyr: Ok. I'm going to investigate.

Gweg: Don't fool around.

Satyr: Don't worry about that, I'm not like the widow.

Satyr left the entryway and went into the room where the wake was being held.

Gweg heard someone call out his name from behind him. He turned around and saw Mindy. She looked as beautiful as ever.

Mindy: Thank you for coming, Gweg.

Gweg: Not at all.

Mindy turned to the two people she was with and excused herself from them.

Mindy: Gweg, could you come with me.

Mindy led Gweg to an unoccupied room. She embraced Gweg and the two began to kiss.

A moment later, Gweg released himself from her.

Gweg: Should we be doing this here, it is James' wake after all.

Mindy: I know, but even with all that has happened this past week, I can't stop thinking about you. You were the only person who was there for me when James was away. And now that he's gone for good, I need you more than ever.

Gweg: I can't help but feeling guilty for what we did. we betrayed his trust.

Mindy looked at Gweg with angry eyes.

Mindy: No! He betrayed mine! I told him not to drop out of college and join the army. I told his. And now look where it's gotten him. Besides, you were a better lover than he was. All he did was pump into me and fell asleep. You actually made sure I was getting pleased. And you would cuddle with me. I'm sad he's gone. I did love him. But I love you as well and I need you now.

She threw herself into Gweg's arms. He held her there for a minute and gave in to her temptation.

Meanwhile, Satyr was investigating.

Satyr believed his best advantage was to find out whether James had suspected anything. satyr saw a group of four men in their army uniforms. Satyr made his way over to them and waited for his chance to get into their conversation.

Soldier 1: I agree. We need to get out of that country. It's complete shit.

Soldier 3: We need to finish up.

Soldier 4. Whatever the case maybe, I know we should never have gone there in the fist place. I joined up because of 9/11, and Iraq has got nothing to do with that.

Soldier 2: I joined the army in 2000, back then I thought I'd never fight in a war. Boy was I wrong. I still remember the first time I killed a man.

Satyr: I bet that was sweet.

Soldier 2: Excuse me.

Satyr: When you first killed a guy. It was sweet, wasn't it. It's like a rush. Your head becomes clear and you get this feeling of power. And the best part is, that guy you killed is going to become your slave in the afterlife.

Soldier 1: Who are you.

Satyr: Oh, I'm a grief counselor. Speaking of which. You guys ever get the feeling when you're overseas fighting, that your girl back here might be cheating on you.

Soldier 4: No, Karen loves me.

Satyr: Yeah, I don't doubt that. But you're over there, on the other side of the world, and she's back here, with needs a vibrator ain't gonna fulfill.

Soldier: 2 Shut-up, you are making me worried about it now.

Satyr: Well, you should be. Speaking of, do any of you guys know if James was worried about that kind of thing.

Soldier 3: No. Him and his wife were always talking to each other on his cell when they got the chance. Why do you want to know?

Satyr: Professional curiosity. You, gentlemen, have a nice day.

That didn't help much, Satyr thought. He saw Stacy Wexler, standing next to her brother's casket.

Satyr went up to it and peered inside.

Satyr: Wasn't a head wound that did him in huh? That's good. You get to have an open casket funeral. But sometimes these restorative artists can do wonders. An old buddy of mine was shot right through the eye, the bullet went out the back of his head. Hell of thing. But when it came time for his funeral, he looked good as new. Well, he kind of looked like a pirate anyway, they had to put a patch over the eye socket where he got shot, but other than that. He looked terrific.

Stacy: That's nice. Any news on my sister-in-law. Or former sister-in-law I should say.

Satyr: Nada. Is there anyone you suspect that she was struping, cause that would help out.

Stacy: I talked to her neighbor, she saw a white male, about 5 foot 9 at the house several times during the week. He had dirty blond hair.

Satyr: Hmmm, I'll keep an eye out.

Satyr began to scan the room. He saw a young man with the features Stacy had given him. satyr decided to keep a watch on this guy.

Several minutes went by. The widow had finally come out of hiding and was making her way through the room. Getting hugged by various people, a comforting hand rub on the shoulder from others, then she made her way to the man Satyr was watching.

They had hugged a few seconds longer than she did with the other people. And he began to rub her shoulder. She was very relaxed around him, comfortable. The body language didn't lie. Satyr looked around the room and saw Gweg.

Satyr ran over to him and pointed a finger at him.

Satyr: It's all over. I know everything.

Gweg was stunned. Had Satyr followed them?

Gweg: How?

Satyr: See that guy she is standing with over there. Yeah, him. That's the guy she's been fucking.

Gweg: That's her cousin.

Satyr: Those sick freaks!

Gweg: She is not having sex with her cousin.

Satyr: Well, damn, there goes my only good lead.


Gweg: Maybe you aren't getting anywhere in your investigation because she never cheated on him.


Satyr: No, she did. I can tell just by looking at her. Come to think of it, I'm pretty sure she just had sex. Her hair is a bit ruffled. Her skin has a bit of a glow. She is very relaxed for someone whose husband's corpse is laying a few feet away. See, Gweg, I have an eye for detail and a great deductive mind. Putting 2 and 2 together is my specialty. By the way, the back of your shirt is untucked and you may want to comb your hair. You look like you've been roughhousing with somebody.



Gweg: Thanks.



The rest of the wake went off without a hitch. Satyr didn't discover any new information and Gweg talked to some old friends.








The Day of the Funeral.



Gweg and Satyr were getting ready for the funeral.



Gweg was dressed. Satyr came out of his room, empty handed.



Gweg: No spy stuff today?


Satyr: They weren't helping me. I placed hidden microphones in the room, but all I could pick up is a bunch of people catching up on their lives and talking about the dead guy. And I could use my binoculars because I would look suspicious.



Gweg: Like I said, you are not going to find anything. And you don't need to some to the funeral. People will just be sitting down through the service and talking about James. Nothing is going to happen.



Satyr: But something might. And I need to be there when it does. Besides, whoever was boning her might let something slip if he gives a speech, so I need to hear it. And if that doesn't work, I have a few tricks up my sleeve.



Gweg: Just behave yourself.



They arrived at the funeral home thirty minutes later. They took their seats and the preacher began to read from the Bible. After some prayers, Gweg went up to give his eulogy.



Gweg: James Roberts was a very good friend. We met in Junior High when we had lockers right next to each other. Throughout school, I could always count on James to get my back. He was always watching out for me, when the school bullies began to throw their food at me, James would put a stop to it.



Gweg paused when he heard Satyr let out a little laugh. He swallowed and continued.



Gweg: I had the pleasure of introducing Mindy to James. Mindy had moved in next door to me. Her family home-schooled her, so James and her would never have known of each other. Having visited my new next door neighbors a few times, I knew this beautiful girl would be perfect for James. So I got the two together. Whenever Mindy wasn't looking, James would point to a place on her body and give me a thumbs up.



This time, several laughs came from the room. This time, Gweg was expecting it.



Gweg: When James and Mindy moved away, I felt they took a part of me with them. I missed them dearly but always kept in touch. James made sure I did. If I hadn't called within two days, James would call me up and give me hell. When they got married, I felt sorry that I couldn't be there but was happy because I knew they were happy.



By this point, Satyr began wiping fake tears away from his face. He elbowed the person sitting next to him and began making a jerking -off gesture. Gweg continued on.



Gweg: When they moved back, I was thrilled. James had been through the Army, but hadn't seemed to change one bit. When he went to Iraq, I wasn't worried. If anyone could handle a war, it would be James.



Apparently not, Satyr thought.



Gweg: James asked me to look after Mindy while he was gone. And so I did. We spent many nights together talking about what a great guy James is. I'm sorry you're gone James, but I will always remember you. And I thank you for everything you have given me.



Gweg cast a quick guilty look over to Mindy. Stacy began to look Gweg with fury in her eyes. Satyr was too busy staring at his watch.



After the other people gave speeches about James, everyone got up and began to head out to their cars for the funeral procession.



Satyr and Gweg headed towards their car. They saw Mindy get into the front of the hearse.



Satyr: That's unusual. I've never seen a wife ride with the casket to the grave site.



Gweg: She wants to be with her husband on the way there. One last car ride together.



Satyr then saw the driver of the hearse. He was a shorter man with dirty blond hair.



Satyr: excuse me a second Gweg, I forgot something.



Satyr ran over to the hearse and pulled out a pill bottle. He gave a couple of the pills to Mindy. After Mindy took them, Satyr ran back over to his car.



Gweg: What was that about?



Satyr: I had some Prozac that I wanted to give her. To calm her down. She looked really upset.



Gweg: Yeah, that happens at funerals.



Satyr: You're upset too, maybe you should let me drive during this thing.



Gweg: Fine.



Gweg got into the car, just before Satyr could step in, Stacy ran up to him.



Stacy: Did you see what I saw? It was him!



Satyr: Yeah, I saw him too. Don't worry. I'm going to get the proof and expose her for what she is.



Stacy: I'm glad to hear it.



They got into their cars and rolled out.



The cemetery was 6 miles away.



Satyr and Gweg were five cars back from the hearse.



Satyr kept swerving the car over to the right and back again every so often.



Gweg: Why can't you drive in a straight line like everyone else?



Satyr: I'm looking for something.



Gweg: What?



Satyr: Oh, you'll see it.



Satyr checked his watch.



Satyr: It should have kicked in by now.



Gweg figured Satyr was talking about the Prozac but then came to his sense.



Gweg: What should have kicked in by now?



Satyr smiled.



Satyr: I don't know why I need binoculars. My eyesight is great. I can see the hearse's side-view mirror just fine from here.



Gweg asked his question again.



Satyr: Remember my Satyr Spanish Fly. That's what I really gave her. The driver of the hearse, he's the one she's been cheating with. Now, I'm going to catch them in the act. NOW!



Satyr pulled out of the line and into the other lane. He sped up next to the hearse and pulled out a camera.



Satyr: Grab the wheel!



Satyr let go of the wheel and pulled a camera out of the car's console. Gweg grabbed ahold of the wheel.



In the hearse, Mindy was in the middle of giving the driver of the hearse a blow job.



Satyr: What a slut! I got her. Oh yeah, that's the money shot right there.



Satyr took several pictures. And in the process, fell on top of Gweg.



Gweg had lost control of the wheel and they swerved right into the hearse.



Unfortunately, the road they were on was on the top of a steep incline. The hearse had left the road and begin to roll down the side of the hill. It stopped when it hit a tree at the bottom of the incline.



Gweg and Satyr, along with other from the procession had made their way down to the accident, they had found there were two dead bodies in the hearse.



The casket had slid up into the cabin of the hearse and had decapitated Mindy



Gweg began to scream and cry. Satyr took his digital camera over to Stacy and showed her the pics.



Satyr: It's poetic ain't it. She lost her head after giving head.



Stacy: You're sick.



Satyr shrugged and took a couple pictures more pictures of Mindy.



Gweg finally got up and turned Satyr around to face him.



Gweg: You son of a bitch! You want the truth? It was me! I was the one she was sleeping with. You did all of this for nothing. It was me!



Satyr just stared at Gweg. He looked back at Mindy's decapitated body and back to Gweg.



Satyr: It was you the whole time?



Gweg wiped away his tears.



Gweg: Yes.



Satyr laughed.



Satyr: I don't buy that for a second.





The End.

Poetic Injustice: The Jaded Poet Story.

As he watched the four residents of the duplex, he saw a curious sight. One of the members of the Power Pack had strolled up to the door. He opened the door without knocking, said "You have no idea" and stepped inside.

Jaded Poet watched this much interest. He stared through the binoculars, intent to read the lips of those talking inside. He could make out little from their movements, but he was able to get that Primus had left his team to join up with this group here.

Poet began to analyze what this meant. What it meant for this group here, what it meant for the Power Pack, and what it meant for The Agency, and what it meant for him.

Poet put down the binoculars and looked at his watch. Three hours he had spent watching the duplex. Three hours that would bring considerable pay, but this new development with Primus would bring even more.

Poet smiled. The Agency sure did love him. He was the only independent hitman they ever brought on as a full member. He had Lichton to thank for that.

Poet put his binoculars away and brought out his cell phone and his gun. He had to call Lichton to report in, but he got out his gun just in case.

Poet knew he always had to be ready for a kill, even when he was doing the most simple of tasks.


Two Years Ago

Woman: I just love your work.

Jaded Poet: Thank you.

Jaded Poet singed his name in her book and handed it back to her. She looked at it with a smile on her face and left.

Jaded Poet: Next please.

Jaded Poet, aka James Phearson, was at his book singing. His third published collection of poetry had hit the shelves and he was touring the book stores.

He hated autograph sessions.

There was nothing worse than to hear the most simple minded people recite his poetry. And they did it poorly. Always messing up lines, never catching the right tone, and never fully understanding the meaning. The only reason they read his work is because they wanted to appear sophisticated. All because he was Time's Poet Of The Year back in 2002. He had published his first collection that year and had gained a reputation of "being able to paint the most complicated of human emotions with his words". He had a strong fan following ever since.

Of course, he also had to deal with the Questions. The Questions were all the same. "What inspires you?" "How do you write this stuff?" "Who's your favorite poet?" "What's your favorite poem you wrote?"

He answers them, of course. Always with a smile on his face. And sometimes it's not a false smile. If they knew the answer to what inspires him, they would run away screaming.

The next fan came up and placed his copy of the book in front of Poet.

Jaded Poet: And who do I make this out?

The fan: To Brad Arliss. It's going to be a surprise to him. If you would, please write out "To Brad Arliss, Happy Birthday over there on 1623 Maple Street".

Jaded Poet looked up at the man.

Jaded Poet: Will do.

Poet handed the book back to him and continued the session for the next hour.

The next day Jaded Poet and the two lackey his publishers assigned to him on this tour had packed up their things and left town.

That night they had stopped at a motel to catch some rest.

Jaded Poet: You guys good?

Lackey 1: Yes. Mr. Phearson.

Jaded Poet: Good. I'm going to go out for a drive. I'll be gone for a couple hours. I'll call you on your cells if I get into trouble.

Lackey 2: What are you going out for?

Jaded Poet: Inspiration.

Jaded Poet had drove back into town. He had parked his car on the 1400 block of Maple Street, got out and began to walk.

He strolled right up to 1623 and knocked on the door.

A man answered. He looked tired and surprised.

The Man: It's a little too late to be knocking on people's doors, don't you agree?

Jaded Poet: Just because a visitor makes his arrival at your door, it doesn't mean you have to answer. Alas, you did, so you must be a lonely man who welcomes all company at even the most odd of hours. Is that accurate, Mr. Brad Arliss?

The man blinked his eyes in surprise and the sound of his name.

Brad: Well, since you know my name, you might give me the pleasure of knowing yours.

Jaded Poet: My name is a gift best presented to those who have invited me into the comfort of their homes.

Brad: In that case, come on in.

Jaded Poet entered Brad's house and took a look around. He was able to surmise that Mr. Arliss did indeed live alone.

Jaded Poet: It looks as those my speculation of your living environment was correct.

Brad: I guess. Now how about you give me your name and and the reason you are here.

Jaded Poet: For all intents and purposes, my name at this particular juncture in both of our lives shall remain anonymous. My reason for being here is simple: I was sent here.

Brad: To do what?

Jaded Poet: To give you this.

Poet handed Brad a piece of paper.

Brad: And what am I supposed to do with this?

Jaded Poet: Read it.

Brad: Why?

Jaded Poet smiled and took a gun out of his inner coat pocket.

Jaded Poet: Because everybody deserves to say something beautiful before they die.

Brad stared at the gun. The paper trembling in his hands.

Jaded Poet: It's very simple Brad. You read the poem there, out loud, and I kill you swiftly and with no pain. You don't read the poem, then you make this operation very difficult. Not for me, but for yourself. The end result will be the same. You will die.

Brad: It's them, ain't it? They sent you here.

Jaded Poet: That's not for me to say Brad. It doesn't matter anymore. The only thing that matters is that you have one last chance to introduce something magnificent into your life before die.

Brad began to read the poem.

Brad: "As I end my exasperated voyage, I am content with shedding all of this foliage. The growth of pain and misery, shall be nothing but a history. And so it was, as the day I was born, I shall die clean, no longer tainted and worn" Nice fucking poem.

Jaded Poet produced a dagger out of his sleeve and lunged at Brad, slicing his throat.

Brad collapsed to the floor clutching his throat, looking at Poet with betrayed eyes.

Jaded Poet: I didn't appreciate your tone or the snide comment.

Jaded Poet pulled a cloth out of his pocket, wiped the blood off of the dagger and placed it back into the sheath hidden in his sleeve.

As Brad let out his last breath, Poet walked out, went back to his car, and drove back to the motel.

One Month Later

Jaded Poet was relaxing in his home when he received a call from his publishing agent, Maria

Maria: Guess what James! I got more exciting news!

Jaded Poet: That's great Maria. What is it?

Maria: That anonymous fan of your has agreed to pay for more of your original drafts. And at the same price as the other ones! If this guy keeps buying more, you could retire at a very early age!

Jaded Poet: Thanks for the good news Maria.

Maria: It's my pleasure. I can't wait to read your next set. Bye!

Poet hung the phone up and sighed. If she only knew.

The death of Brad Arliss had gave Poet exactly what he was looking for. Inspiration. He was already well into writing one of his famous free verse poems when someone began knocking on his door.

Jaded Poet: 'Tis some visitor, tapping at my chamber door. Only this and nothing more.

Poet got up from his writing desk and called out to the person behind the door.

Jaded Poet: How may I help you?

The person behind the door spoke: My name is Ted Lichton. I'm from The Agency.

Poet immediately reached for his gun and tucked it into his back pocket. He opened the door.

Lichton: Thank you for letting me in. We need to talk.

Poet pulled out the gun.

Lichton looked at it calmly.

Lichton: Please don't get the wrong idea, Mr. Phearson. I am not here for insidious reasons. I am here to offer you an invitation.

Jaded Poet put the gun away.

Jaded Poet: This is very unexpected. I was under the impression that I would never have direct contact with anyone from your organization.

Lichton: That was plan. But you have many people in The Agency looking your way. Take your last month's kill for example. You did leave a bit of a bloody mess, but once again, no sounds were heard from the neighbors and no one saw a thing. That was the tenth kill you have done for us and the results have always been the same.

Jaded Poet: Thank you.

Lichton: I'm what you would call a headhunter. I seek out those who would be best suited to work for us. I found you. I'll admit, your prices were steep, but I convinced my bosses to get in contact with you. Therefor your performance has also reflected back on me. I have been promoted.

Jaded Poet: Congratulations. We should celebrate this splendid occasion.

Lichton: Wonderful idea.

Poet and Lichton went into the kitchen. Poet brought out a glass of champagne and poured two glasses.

Jaded Poet: A toast. To The Agency.

Lichton: To The Agency.

The drank the champagne and Lichton motioned to the kitchen table.

Lichton: Let's have a seat.

They sat down and Lichton brought out a notebook he had in his tote bag.

Lichton: Telling you about my promotion is now the only reason I'm here.

Jaded Poet: No?

Lichton: No. I'm here to interview you.

Lichton smiled as he said interview. It did not go unnoticed by Poet.

Jaded Poet: Is this for The Agency Times?

Lichton laughed.

Lichton: No. This is for my bosses. They want an in depth profile on you.

Jaded Poet: My I inquire why?

Lichton: Of course. We have been on the lookout for a special enforcer. A cleaner, if you will. Someone who can take care of certain messes we can't deal with normally.

Jaded Poet: And I am up for this job.

Lichton: Yes. I have nominated you. I have great confidence in you, but they need testaments of all candidates. So, let's begin shall we?

Poet nodded.

Lichton: When did you first learn you were capable of killing?

Poet's eyes searched over Lichton for a few seconds then became contemplative. Poet sat still for a few seconds than answered.

Jaded Poet: The first time I killed a man.

Lichton: Touché. What drove you to kill him?

Jaded Poet: He asked me to.

Lichton was looking down into his notebook as he was writing, but glanced up at Poet's answer.

Lichton: He asked you to?

Jaded Poet: That's correct.

Lichton: Why?

Jaded Poet: He was my neighbor. I was 15 at the time. He stopped by house one afternoon to ask me a favor. He handed me a $50 bill and gave me instructions. Turns out, that 50 was the last money he had. He had gambled most of his savings away, including his daughter's trust fund. He gave me the last of his money to burn his house down. With him in it. We wanted it to look like an arson had struck him while he was asleep. I figured out a way to make it look like an accident. His wife and daughter collected on his insurance and received a new house. No one suspected foul play.

Lichton: So, you killed a man so his family would benefit. Now you are killing strangers for money. Why the transition?

Jaded Poet: As I watched his house burn. I began to think. I thought about his wife and daughter and their loss. I focused on their pain of losing this man they loved over something so foolish. And I considered in my own part in their loss. I could have talked him out of it, but I didn't. I adopted his misery as my own. I now worried about his family. I wrote my first poem that night, pouring my torment onto page. I fell in love with what I wrote and never once regretted what I did to that family afterwards. I tried writing more poems, but none of them lived up to the one I wrote after the fire.

Lichton was writing all of this down. Poet took a drink and continued his story.

Jaded Poet: I dreaded that whatever poetic inspiration I had in that one day was a fluke. Of course, I realized that my preoccupation with the family's suffering is what led to my poetic conception. I needed more. I had to create more misery in order for my talent to produce. I went hunting. Not animals though. I found a bum. He had set up home underneath a railroad bridge that passed over a creek. Knowing he had no family to care for him, I had to figure out a way to feel sorry for his death. So, I filled him up with hope. I gave him some food and drink and told him a tale. One where I was going to be able to find him a real home, get him started on a well paying job, and get his life back on track. The promise of a better life had filled his eyes. I then took out a knife and watched that hope drain out of his eyes. I stabbed him in the side first, to make sure he was aware of my deception before I killed him. The look of betrayal never left his eyes. The poem I wrote that night is the one that opens my first published collection.

Lichton had stopped writing half way through. He had never heard of such a thing. In all of his years working for The Agency, he had never been as stunned as he was now.

He collected himself and finished writing in the notebook. He looked back up at Poet.

Lichton: So, let me get this clear. You kill people so you can write your poems.

Jaded Poet: That is one way of looking at it. I kill people to feel pain and I release that pain through words.

Lichton: So, it's the pain that makes you write?

Jaded Poet: A poet is nothing without his suffering.

Lichton: Fair enough. So, why become a hitman?

Poet smiled at this.

Jaded Poet: If I'm going to kill people, I might as well get paid for it.

Lichton continued his interview for another two hours.

Lichton: Ok, that should wrap it up. You'll be going back on your book singing tour this month right?

Jaded Poet: That's the plan.

Lichton: Excellent. We'll have more work for you.

Lichton gathered his thing. Poet walked him to the door.

Lichton: I hope they pick you. I think you'd be a great asset for The Agency.

Jaded Poet: Thank you. Have a good night Mr. Lichton.

Lichton: You too. And please, call me Ted.

Poet nodded and Lichton left.

Poet stood there, wondering what he was getting himself into. He decided to dismiss the thoughts for now, and began to concentrate on preparation for the rest of his book tour.

One Week Later.

Poet was in a new town on his touring stops. There usually was a reason for a new town to pop up on his map. He was going to have another target there.

And like most of the towns on his book tour, this one was full of idiots on the bandwagon.

Emo Fan: Your poems, like, are the words my soul has been tryin to say for the longest time now. That one poem you wrote, "In The Mirror". How'd that go? "The road your on is near the end. The long journey is yours to defend. The answer you're seeking is near. Your worst enemy is the mirror." That stuff is awesome. I cried. Thank you.

Jaded Poet: You're welcome.

Poet signed his book and the emo kid left. Poet hoped the kid was as good at cutting his wrists as he was at butchering that poem.

The next person came up to the table. He sat a book down in front of Poet.

Jaded Poet: And who do I make this out to?

The Fan: Derrick Reynolds. It's a gift. Please sign it, "Happy Anniversary Derrick. Have another great 15 years of marriage there on 1919 Liberty Street.

Jaded Poet: Will do. Thanks for reading.

Poet handed the book back and let out a sigh of relief. That part was over, now he had to finish pleasing the chumps and he'd be out of the hell hole.

Jaded Poet: Next please.

As Poet called that out, he glanced out of the book store window to see his messenger get into a car. The next fan had began reading a line of his poetry. It was a female voice, and the way she was reciting grabbed his attention.

The Woman: "A smile, a most deadly smile sits upon an innocent face. Trust is not something I give to one with such grace. /Staring at each other for a while, time goes by without a trace. Is dying a better option than to live? You say you just made your case. /The sounds are getting louder, it's time for a change of pace. We come together you and I and we share warm embrace./ Turning ourselves into powder, to see which one wins the race. You took our love and let it die, still keeping your innocent face."

Jaded Poet looked up at the woman. The woman was moderately attractive. Not a real knockout, but cute in her own way. But that didn't matter to Poet. The way she had recited his poetry made her the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. She had set her book down for Poet to sign. It was "A Jaded Poet".

Jaded Poet: "Innocent Face". Nobody has ever recited that one to me. Whom do I make this out to?

The Woman: Emily Page.

Jaded Poet: Why Innocent Face?

Emily: The woman in the poem, you seem to make her out to be a woman who has scorned you, yet tries to hide it unsuccessfully.

Jaded Poet: Go on.

Emily: Yet you are the guilty one in the relationship. You are the one that screwed up and she still feels love and sympathy for you, but decided to end it for the better. Then you both have one final love making session, and you blame her the whole time. "Is dying a better option than to live". That's her ending the relationship. The relationship is dying and it's for the good. "The sounds are getting louder" That's you two arguing. "Turning ourselves into powder, to see which one wins the race". That's you two making love. But not really. It's her way of saying goodbye and your way of saying "stay". The conflict is grinding you both up into pieces.

Jaded Poet: Excellent. You are the first one to properly analyze that one.

Jaded Poet stood up and bowed. Emily blushed.

Emily: Thanks.

Jaded Poet: I feel as though I owe you something. Such a rare treat has never manifested before me. Shall I be so bold as to take you out to a dinner?

Emily was speechless.

Jaded Poet: The whole thing will be my treat, of course.

Emily: Uh, yeah, that'd be great.

Jaded Poet: Very well. Shall we meet here at say, 8 PM tomorrow and go from there.

Emily: It's a date.

Poet smiled and bowed again. The rest of the autograph session breezed by.

The Next Day.

Poet was finished getting dressed in his motel room. He walked over to the room where the lackeys were staying. He knocked and entered.

Jaded Poet: I will be taking a leave tonight gentlemen.

Lackey 1: Off to get more inspiration?

Poet smiled.

Jaded Poet: Yes. And I have a date.

The lackeys gasped.

Lackey 2: Mr. Phearson, it's about time you get some tail.

Jaded Poet: Thank you. And don't wait up for me.

The lackeys laughed.

Poet left the motel at 6 0'clock. He got into his car and pulled a suitcase out of the back. In it was a disguise. He drove around the town for a few minutes, found a secluded spot, and changed into the disguise.

He then drove his car to a nearby laundromat. He parked it, got out, and walked two blocks to a supermarket.

When the coast was clear, he hot wired a Buick Century and drove to 1919 Liberty Street.

He arrived in front of the house at 6:45.

Poet walked up to the house and knocked on the door. Derrick Reynolds answered.

Derrick: Who's there?

Poet cleared in voice and began to talk with a southern accent, masking his real voice.

Jaded Poet: Mister Reynolds, I am the Clerk of the Court and I am here to issue you subpoena.

Derrick opened the door angrily.

Derrick: What the hell! It's that fucking bitch of an ex-wife of mine, isn't it?

Jaded Poet: Mister Reynolds, I don't know about any of that, all I know is I'm here to give you this message. May I step inside for just one quick second?

Derrick: Just give me the subpoena and get the fuck out of here.

Jaded Poet: Mister Reynolds, we have another matter to discuss and it's a bit cold out here, so if you wouldn't mind just letting me in for a few and then I can be on my way.

Derrick stepped back from the door.

Derrick: Be my guest.

Poet entered the house and did a quick survey.

Derrick: So, what's up?

Jaded Poet: You said you have an ex-wife. Did you and she have any children?

Derrick: Yeah, we have a 12 year old son.

Jaded Poet: And where is the child now?

Derrick: Up in his room doing his homework.

Jaded Poet smiled. He was able to appreciate pain more when it dealt with a child.

Derrick: Does my kid have something to do with this?

Jaded Poet: Not yet.

Derrick looked at Poet, puzzled.

Derrick: Well, give me that damned subpoena. I want to read it.

Poet handed Derrick the paper in his hand.

Derrick scanned over it.

Derrick: This is a poem.

Jaded Poet: Yes it is. Why don't you read it out loud.

Derrick gave Poet a disgusted look and threw the paper to the ground.

Derrick: No more fucking games. Tell me what you are doing here.

Derrick pulled out a gun.

Poet anticipated this. He began to talk in his Poetic voice

Jaded Poet: The abnegation of your undertaking appears to be a forfeiture of that you hold dear.

Poet's words confused Derrick, so much that he dropped his guard for a second.

And in that second, Poet made his move.

Poet grabbed an ashtray that was near his hand and hurled it at Derrick. It hit Derrick in the hand, causing him to drop the gun. Derrick bent down to retrieve it.

Poet rammed himself into Derrick, causing them both to fall backwards. Poet picked himself up immediately. Derrick lunged at Poet's legs. Poet jumped and kicked Derrick in the face. Derrick's nose ruptured. As the blood ran down his face, Derrick brought his attention to his nose. Poet removed a knife. Neither of them saw Derrick's son, Rob, come down the stairs.

Rob: Dad, what's going on?

Derrick turned at the sound of his son's voice.

Derrick: Nothing Robbie. Run back up stairs.

Rob: You're bleeding dad.

Derrick: I know son. Don't worry.

Derrick looked at Poet.

Derrick: Please. Not my son. Leave him alone.

Jaded Poet: I have no business with your son. Just you and you alone.

Derrick: Fine. But not in front of him.

Jaded Poet: That's up to you.

Poet retrieved the poem Derrick had thrown to floor. He handed it back to him.

Jaded Poet: Read it.

Derrick: No. I'd rather my son watch me die than to read that garbage.

Jaded Poet: So be it.

Poet quickly stabbed Derrick in both lungs, thorax, and stomach.

Jaded Poet: This is going to be painful.

Poet grabbed Derrick's gun and pointed it at Rob.

Jaded Poet: Don't move. Watch.

Derrick's death took longer than expected. After Derrick died, Poet spoke to Rob.

Jaded Poet: I am going to leave now. Wait ten minutes then call the cops. I'll be watching. If you call them any earlier, I will kill you. Ok?

Rob stared at the body of his father and nodded.

Poet left, got in the Buick and drove three blocks away from the laundromat in a back alley.

He wiped the Buick out, hid behind some bushes, changed back into his original clothes and took of his disguise. He then walked back to his car.

It was 7:40.

At 8 o'clock, he pulled up in front of the book store.

Emily greeted him.

Emily: Right on time.

Jaded Poet: I do my best to be punctual.

Poet had a sly grin on his face.

Emily: You look like the cat that swallowed the canary.

Jaded Poet: Merely an appetizer. What restaurant shall we go to?

Emily: How about Ted's?

Jaded Poet: Then we shall dine there.

The drove to Ted's Fine Dining Steakhouse.

They got a table and began their date.

Jaded Poet: So, why my poetry?

Emily smiled. She had been infatuated with man in front of her ever since she picked up his first poetry collection. She could hardly believe she was now sitting here having dinner with him.

Emily: Are you implying you are the only poet I read?

Jaded Poet: Of course not. But why read my poetry?

Emily: It's cheaper than buying sleeping pills all the time.

Poet laughed. The majority of his fans spent their time trying to kiss his ass. This one was relaxed, making jokes, and having a good time. Poet could read her body language and knew she liked more than just his poetry.

Jaded Poet: So, my poems are the cure for insomnia. Won't the medical world be pleased?

Emily laughed.

Emily: No, your poems are the cause of insomnia. I spent a whole night reading that first collection. The same with other ones.

Jaded Poet: All night reading? You must have gotten one hell of a headache.

Emily: Please. You must have me mistaken for one of those morons who claim to be one of your fans so they can look cool to their buddies.

Poet couldn't hide a smile any longer.

Jaded Poet: You don't know how long I have waited for somebody to recognize that, other than myself.

Emily: I heard the morons chatter away, talking about your poetry as though they knew it forwards and backwards. The only guy who didn't talk was the one in front of me. But I heard him say it was a gift to somebody, so I guess he wasn't a fan.

Poet started to tense up at this, but relaxed when he realized Emily didn't hear the name.

Jaded Poet: So, I'm sure you know quite a bit about me. My biography is on the dust jacket after all. I want to know about you.

Emily: There's not much really. I'm probably the most boring girl you'll ever meet.

Jaded Poet: I write poems. My life isn't full of excitement. Your life might seem like the Adventures of Indiana Jones next to mine.

Emily blushed once again.

Emily: I lived here all my life. I work at Starbucks. I have two brothers and no sisters. My mom was always there for us, my dad spent of the time on the road. He was a negotiator. Not the cop kind, but a busisness one. When he was home, I was daddy's little girl. He spend time with the boys, playing catch and doing all the father stuff. But with me, he would read me bed time stories. Not the usual ones, but he would tell me about his business trips and make everyone seem like a fantasy character. He was really good at that. He died a few years ago.

Jaded Poet: I'm sorry to hear that.

Emily: Thank you. What about your family?

Jaded Poet: Only child. My parents were both factory workers. They're retired now.

Emily: That's all.

Jaded Poet: I told my story would be more boring than what you believed yours to be.

Emily: I think you're hiding something.

Jaded Poet: Mayhap I am. But would you rather have be bring everything out in the open tonight or reveal more as we go along?

Emily: So, are you asking me out to another date?

Jaded Poet: I have one more stop on the book tour to go to. that city west of here, I forget the name, but after that, I'm free. And I would like to celebrate the end of my tour with another dinner with you.

Emily: I can hardly wait.

They continued with their date for another hour, talking about their favorite poets. After dinner, they walked out to their cars.

Emily: So, when you are done with the tour, stop by my house and I'll fix you dinner.

Jaded Poet: Sounds wonderful.

Emily gave him her address and left home. Poet went back to the hotel.

Lackey 1: Hey boss, welcome back. How was the date?

Jaded Poet: Inspiring.

Poet sat down at the desk in his room. He took out his pencil and began to write. The pain of the boy witnessing his father's death was not what was driving his hand. The only thing producing the poetry this time was the thought of Emily.

Jaded Poet had found a muse.

The next day they had set up the autograph booth at the final stop. It was a convention. Poet hated these the most. They lasted forever.

In between autographs, Poet would constantly look at his watch, time seemed to be moving slower. And the questions kept getting repetitive and more stupid.

Fat Fan: When the next book coming out James?

Thin Fan: Where's Stephen King's booth? Is he even here?

Old Lady Fan: My granddaughter just loves your poems. She's always trying to get me to read them, but my eyes these days, I can only read those books that have the big letters. They don't have your book in the big letters. Can you out one out in the big letters?

Another Emo Fan: Hey. I wrote some poetry too. Why don't you read it and tell me what you think.

Hours went by.

He looked at his watch. one lats time. Ten minutes till the event was over. Poet was never more relieved.

The last fan walked up to his booth and sat a book down in front of him.

Jaded Poet: Who do I make this out to?

The Fan: To Emily Page. It's a present. Could you write "To Emily. Have a Happy Birthday there on 2348 Maple drive"?

Poet returned to his motel room, livid.

He called up his agent, Maria. She answered the phone in her usually chirpy voice.

Maria: James, what can I do for you.

Jaded Poet: Get me Lichton.

Maria: Who?

Poet became pissed.

Jaded Poet: Don't play dumb with me Maria. You know goddamn well I wasn't born yesterday. I know you work for them, it wasn't a big fucking secret. So, you get that son of a bitch Lichton for me right now!

For a few seconds, there was no answer. Then Maria spoke, in a much flatter tone.

Maria: Ok James. I'll try to reach him.

Maria hung up the phone. Poet sat on the edge of his bed, and stared.

Three hours later, Lichton showed up at Poet's door.

Lichton entered. Poet waited for an answer.

Lichton: There's no use in bullshitting you. We know you had a date with her.

Jaded Poet: Is this a test? To see if I'm worthy to be your enforcer?

Lichton: Yes and no. She's been on our list for a few years now. She never represented a real threat, until now.

Jaded Poet: I think you better elaborate.

Lichton: I will. Her father worked for us. He was loyal, never told anybody what he was doing for us. Or so we thought. He had a death bed confession he made to his old partner, who was there by his side. He confessed that he told his daughter stories of what he did. He said he mentioned real names and sand kept some details in. He told this to his partner in confidence. Which his partner then told us. His loyalties lies with The Agency, not his friend. That's something we value, James. Loyalty.

Jaded Poet: Why me?

Lichton: I picked you. It was supposed to be passed on to someone else. You already had a name for that town.

Jaded Poet: What makes you think I'm going to kill her?

Lichton: She is a target. If you don't kill her, somebody else will. And trust me, not all of our killers have poetic hearts. This way, you can choose the best way for her to be eliminated. Unless...

Jaded Poet: Unless what?

Lichton: Well, this is just between you and me. If you can figure out a way to make her "gone" so that she's not on The Agency's radar anymore, than by all means, do it.

Poet looked at Lichton. Lichton gave no indication that he was lying about that possibility.

Jaded Poet: Make her "gone".

Lichton: Yes, James. Whatever way you feel is best for everybody.

Lichton left the room. Poet sat on the edge of the bed the rest of the night.

The Next Day.

Poet arrived at Emily's house. She saw him pull up and greeted him at the door.

Emily: I'm so glad you came!

Jaded Poet: Me too.

Emily could tell there was something off.

Emily: What's wrong?

Jaded Poet: I'm just tired. Little sleep.

Emily: Me too. I'm making some tuna noodle casserole? You like?

Jaded Poet: One of my favorites.

Emily gave Poet a quick tour of her house. She brought him to the small dining room and went into the kitchen to check on the food.

Poet removed a piece of paper from his pocket, glanced over it and stuffed it back in.

Emily came out minutes late, with the casserole.

Emily: It came out all right. I hope it's good.

Jaded Poet: I'm sure it will be. So, been bragging to your friends that you're going out with a world renowned poet?

Emily laughed.

Emily: Not yet, you're my little secret. It seems whenever I brag about things, they have a tendency to fall apart. I don't want this to fall apart.

Poet nodded.

Emily: Ok, all we need is the wine now. Let me go get it.

Jaded Poet: Allow me.

Emily: Go ahead.

Poet walked into the kitchen and made two glasses. He brought them out and sat back down.

Jaded Poet: Before we begin, I want to ask you a question.

Emily: What is it?

Jaded Poet: Is there anything keeping you in this town?

Emily: Not really. My family is still here. My mom and brothers. But I hardly visit them any more as it is. Why?

Poet hesitated.

Jaded Poet: If I were to leave tomorrow, to go to Europe or something. Would you come with me?

Emily was shocked at the question.

Emily: James, we really don't know each other that well. Yeah, I've read your poetry sand know some facts about you, but you may be someone completely different behind your own doors. And even if that's not the case, you may find out I'm not everything you think I am.

Jaded Poet: That ok. Just a silly thought in my head. Don't worry about it.

They sat there in silence for a few moments, neither of them moving. Finally, Emily spoke.

Emily: Screw it. Let's do it.

Jaded Poet: What?

Emily: Yeah. Let's go. This is the kind of fairy tales girls dream about when they are young. The young dashing poet comes in and scoops of the girl and takes her to places she's never been.

Jaded Poet: Girls dream of poets?

Emily: Yes. So yeah, let's do it.

Emily picked up her glass.

Emily: A toast to Europe.

Jaded Poet: Wait a second, I have something else.

Emily; What is it?

Jaded Poet: I wrote you a poem.

Poet took the paper back out of his pocket and handed it to her. She unfolded it and began to read it to herself.

Jaded Poet: Read it out loud. I love hearing you read my poetry.

Emily: Ok. "Everything just disappears. Darkness becomes it's disguise. I see a window into paradise, while I am looking through your eyes./I manage to forget all of my fears. The thought of pain is a bundle of lies. My feelings are wonderful and nice, because I am looking through your eyes./ So much emotion, it brings me to tears. Time stands still, and the pain just dies. To find true happiness, I need no advice. All I do, is look through your eyes.

Emily read the poem to herself again. She began to tear up.

Emily: I love this. Thank you. It's not like your other poems. This one is really beautiful.

Jaded Poet: I'm glad you think so.

He held up his glass and so did she. They both took a drink.

Emily's head fell to the table, making a sickening thud. The life in her was gone.

Poet sat there for what seemed like an eternity. Finally he got up. He took his dinner plate and both glasses to the kitchen, cleaned them and placed them back into their cabinets.

He collected his poem, and placed it back into pocket.

Jaded Poet: Goodbye Emily.

Poet left the house.

He would never go on a book tour again. Claiming he was burnt out on poetry, he took an early retirement from writing and left the spotlight that had been on him since his poetry first became famous.

Present Day.

Jaded Poet reached for his phone and called Lichton.

Jaded Poet: A situation has risen here sir.

Lichton: What is it?

Jaded Poet: The Pack member called Primus has allied himself with our group here.

Lichton: Interesting. Ok, we'll pool our info and see where we go from here. Come back to base Poet.

Jaded Poet: On my way.

Lichton hung up the phone. He was not alone in his office. Agent Travis was with him.

Travis: What's going on?

Lichton: Seems Primus may have switched sides.

Travis: Could be a trick. Pretending to be a defector just to get info.

Lichton: Could be, but I doubt it. Not the Power Pack's style. I'll wait and see what Poet has to say about all of this.

Travis: Why do you trust him so much? Do you think he is really that loyal to The Agency?

Lichton: No, far from it. He loyalties lies with one thing. Pain. Once, bringing pain to others is what gave him his drive. then he discovered that bringing pain onto himself was even better. He hates working for us, which is exactly why he'll keep working for us.

Travis: That makes no sense.

Lichton smiled.

Lichton: A poet is nothing without his suffering.

The End