Thursday, July 26, 2012

Blue Font

“Silly, you’ll find no rest while you’re at war with yourself.
Just make a decision and promise yourself you’ll stick with it in the morning.”

This is special designation ‘Firecracker’ reporting in on behalf of the lord of fire and feathers, Mr. Duck. I’ve also been known to respond to ‘Picasso’ and on the rare occasion ‘Fucking Maskless’.

Mr. Duck is apparently suffering from sleeping problems and can’t find time to post in between not sleeping and hunting and we are having a hard time finding Mr. Fracture so Mr. Duck said I get to file a report and so here I am. He gave me a few rules to follow. I’ll go ahead and lay those out to make this report seem longer than it actually is:

             1.      “Do not mention that we are looking for Fracture. I do not want him to be expecting the shovel
                     when he gets back.”
             2.     “Do not mention that I am having sleeping problems. Just tell them I am busy hunting.”
             3.      “Do not break rules 1 and 2.”
             4.      “Do not talk about yours or anyone else’s fighting style or abilities. Whenever you need to express
                     that you killed someone, just say you did. Fuck them if they want to know more, they can stalk me
                     in person for details.”
             5.      “Lie to them.”
             6.      “Make your own account. I don’t want you posting on mine.”

Hmm… looking back over those I already broke 4 out of 6 of his rules. Whoops. Oh well, it serves him right for throwing lit fucking firecrackers at me!

Pettiness aside, I think this is going really well. What else to talk about? Umm…

Oh! I killed a guy yesterday.
After we tracked down our list item, Trent scared him down an alleyway and I dove down on him from a fire escape. In hindsight, the joint trauma of falling on him and forcing a knife through the back of his ribs probably killed him on the spot. That didn’t stop me from screaming at and ripping into the corpse for ten minutes before I finally realized he was already dead.

After I got off of him I cut off his thumb and used it to draw operator symbols on the walls in his blood. My favorite symbol is the triangle with the uppercase ‘L’s attach to every edge. Once the body started to smell I figured I should probably get going so I called our cleaning guy, Trent, and told him to get to work. I could tell he was scowling at me from the other side of his mask. He hates it when I call him from five feet away to tell him to do things over the phone.

Then I helped Trent with his disposal duties and we headed back to New York to report to Mr. Duck and retire for the day.

On an exciting end note, I hear Mr. Duck is going to make Trent give the next report. I can’t wait to finally hear the mute’s opinions of us and his surroundings. Should be fascinating!



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