Flawless - The Epitome Of Perfection

[Surya]

1.
"We've been up here for six hours trying to track this Son Of A Bitch down! You there? How goes it for you?"

"Ah f**k. Nothing over here. It's like he disappeared."

"Yeah. No wonder those guys downtown offered us so much. This guy is as hard to find as a needle in a haystack. I say we give it another hour. Then we go back and tell them to go jerk eachother off!"

"F***in A. Wait a minute. I got some movement."

"No kidding? Hold on for a minute I'll be over. F***in snow makes it so hard to move."

"Hey hurry up. He's on the move! Damn he's fast! Wait...."

"What?....WHAT?!"

"F**K!! I LOST HIM!"

"WHAT?!"

"You heard me! I lost'm! But he couldn't have gone far."

"Hold on! I'm coming!"

"Hey....Wha!!"

"What is it???"

"AHH!!!! AHHHHHH!!!!!!! F**K!" (bang bang bang)

"WHAT IS IT?"

".........."


************************************************** ***


2.

"Sheesh!"

"They were locals I'd say. Local hunters. What do you think?"

"Yup. Looks like it. What's that mark on his neck?"

"I can't know for sure till the coroner gets here but if I had to say, thats where his neck was snapped. Might've been a Bear...Can't tell for sure."

"Yeah...looks like the bear got one here in the woods, and the other one ran up to the road and got inside his truck. The bear went up to him before finishing his meal with this one. You can see the tooth marks on his thighs. So he has a little snack off his thighs and goes up to the truck and toys with that one a few minites before finishing him off....Poor Devils!

"Wonder what the hell these guys thought they were doing up here anyway? Not many people come around here."

"Why not sheriff? Makes a great campin site from the looks of it." (Chuckles)

"I talked to some of the nearby farmers. They said something like a ghost story. Said when people come up here they disappear. My guess is that the snow blizzards makes it easy to get lost. People can't find their way back so they go to sleep and freeze."

"What do you think happened to these two then?"

"Frankly, I don't care. This place gives me the creeps. Let's get back to the squad car."

************************************************** ***

To Be Continued.....

[villan007]

surya.... sooper ma :cool: ...... adutha episode ium seekiram ezzhuthu ;)

[Wibha]

surya from where do u get da ideas of such themes????????? :huh:

it's GOOD

[Surya]

:ty: villa and Wibha...


Wibha...Athellam ulerundhu appadiye varathuthaan! :noteeth: :noteeth:

[Querida]

is it wrong that i read surya's stories like i watch tv? :D I can see two stock characters with overdone accents...is it a cold climate? I think woods around here....is it warm...im guessing between brit and australian really...i can see it's dark...and man on man i know im already as creeped out as the sheriff!

[Surya]

:lol: Thanks Q! :D :D

Well..Here's the next couple.....I'm done with my Semester, any most my frnds are off to their grandparents, so I got nothin to do but write basically..:P

************************************************** **

3.

I awoke with a jolt. Where was I? From a quick look around I'd guess it was an airplane. But was this still a dream? I focused my eyes and gave my surroundings a more thorough look over. No doubt about it. I was on a plane. Center seat, letter D, row 18. Where was I going? I looked to my right. An old lady sat next to me reading a book: Artificial Intelligence: Fact or Fiction.

"Excuse me," I asked. She finished reading her sentence and glanced at me. She was wearing large glasses which seemed to magnify the size of her eyes by ten. It made me nervous to look at them. They had been watching me. I could tell.

"What is the destination of this flight?" The eyes gave me a puzzled look like I was crazy. Maybe I was....

"Unless they've changed it, San Francisco I believe." The eyes replied.

"Thank you."

"Is this your first time out?" The eyes asked. I nodded and looked at the map on the TV screen.

"First time out of where?" Those eyes. I gave them a quick glance. Her face softened like a grandmother handing out a cookie to her grandchild. The eyes remained the same; big.

"Why...out of Canada."

************************************************** *****

4.
I stepped out of the plane and walked towards the terminal through the snakelike tunnel. The air-condition was a relief after being stuck inside that plane for so long. With stuffy air. With babies crying. And those eyes. I smiled at the stewardess as I left the terminal and let in the sights of SFO. It was great. I've always felt at home in airports. Not in airplanes, mind you, but airports. Suddenly I came to -- I really needed to take a piss.

When I came out of the bathroom I saw a man with a black leather jacket holding up a cardboard sign with a name written on it.....Name....I blinked and looked at my shoes. I blinked some more and my head started to hurt....What was my name? Did I have a first? Or a last? What the hell was I doing in San Francisco? My head started to throb. I looked around and saw hundreds of people going about minding their business..

"Josh! Come on! We're going to be late!" -- "I'm going to Seattle to see Micheal honey." -- "Mr. Pressnall, may I see your Boarding Pass?"

I took a step back and hit someone's trolley. "Hey! Watch it Pal!" A bald white male yelled.

"Excuse me..." I went back inside the restroom reaching into my coat pocket and felt something.

"Well John, it's another case of Man vs Nature here in Alma, Canada. The bodies of two men were found this morning, the Canadian Police claim that they were attacked by a bear which seems to be quite common in this region. Hunters are repetedly warned to not come in small numbers......" The speaker went on at in the cieling.

It was a wallet. Was it my wallet? I opened it. The only thing in it was a picture. A man was with a woman and a little girl. Smiling. They looked happy. They looked familiar... I looked up at the mirror. it was the man from the photo...it was me..but who were they?

************************************************** ****

I started to get drowsy....I stumbled a few steps back, slammed the door open to one of the stalls, and sat down on a closed toilet seat....my eyelids pulled down over my eyes, I tried to open it...it was futile....

************************************************** ****

To Be Continued.....

:D

[crazy]

super...............another crime story :thumbsup: :clap:

[Querida]

Why...out of Canada :) whoa for anyone who's wondering we do NOT talk like that! :lol:

8-) intriguing 8-)

[Surya]

Thanks Crazy! :D

Q, :lol:
the old women? :?

[Querida]

no Surya i was referring to the first victims and to the sheriff and partners :P

[Surya]

ahh..okay...well I don't really know how Canadians talk...I just assumed they spoke like Americans. :oops: :P

Well..herez the next few. :D I kinda merged in links to the tools that are being used so ppl know what I"m talking abt if that makes a difference. :P

5.
When I awoke for the second time that day I knew my name. I repeated it to myself as I unlocked the door and stepped outside. There was a man at the sink washing his hands. I smiled at him. He did the same. I walked out. The same man who I had seen before that day stood at the terminal with his sign. But this time he was important. He had meaning. As I approached him I repeated my name once more. I stopped in front in of him and looked down directly into the name he held. It was mine.

*********************************************

6.
"Mr. Parker? " I studied his face before replying. He was young. Mid- twenties probably. His arms bulged beneath his chaffeur's suit and his tan skin reflected the airport lights. I couldn't see his eyes because he wore a pair of black shades.
"Mr. Parker?" he asked again. He probably had about twenty pounds on my one-eighty and it was all muscle.
"Mr. LANCE PARKER!" This time his voice had an edge to it. He was growing irritated. I would have to answer him. Should I?
"That's me." His expression turned to bored.
"Follow me sir. Your car's waiting." He turned and began to walk towards the nearest exit. My car? I followed him.

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7.
"...using newly developed gene therapy, we at Flawless incoporated are able to perfect the imperfections in human skin cells. Unlike mere beauty products on the market before us, Flawless incorporated can guarantee perfect results. The results you desire. For more details visit our interactive website and be sure to join us this weekend at our gala opening parade. We guarantee it will be flawless...using new gene therapy we at Flawless incorporated..."

*******************************************

8.

As I trailed behind him at a leisurely pace my mind raced with questions. I would have to wait for answers, and I didn't like how waiting felt. He turned his head slightly and glanced at me to see if I was there. Then he pulled a slip of paper out of his pants pocket before looking back once more. I didn't see what was on the paper. We left the airport terminals and went down a few escalators. The trailblazer didn't ask me if I had any baggage to claim. Lucky guess I bet. The sliding exit doors whooshed to the sides and we were on the curb. I squinted. When was the last time I was outside in the sun? We continued walking toward one of the underground parking lots. Once there, I quickly scanned for a familiar car. Nada. I followed him to the end of the lot. Almost every spot was filled with cars but I didn't notice a single person. We stopped at the back of a shiny white stretch limo. I had always liked the little v-shape thingy on the trunk of limos. What do those do anyway? He started to walk immediately to the driver's side door. What was he doing? Suddenly he stopped and he laughed quietly to himself.
"This is too easy," he said. That's when I felt time slow almost to a stop.

*********************************************

9.
He turned pulling out a Silenced Beretta M92F (http://www2s.biglobe.ne.jp/~osts_hp/toygunroom/marui/m92f/m92f004.jpg) out of his left inside jacket pocket with his right hand. He was quick and graceful, he had practiced a lot. Not enough. I slapped the gun away with my left hand. It flew off his arm into the air and fell on the roof of the Limo. He was good though. Only hesitated for a quarter of a second before coming at me with a left hook. I watched as my right forearm took the blow, then connected with my own left cross. His jaw unhinged for a moment before I grabbed his head with my right hand and put it through the driver's side window. For the duration of this entire set of actions I had taken one breath. He wasn't moving. Neither was I.

*****************************************

10.

I pulled his whole body out with my right hand and let it sink into the concrete. He mouth hung open and his head was bleeding. I turned him around, and pulled out his wallet. In it was an ID. "Carl Watson. Age: 32." I looked around to see if anyone was there. No one. I walked to a small booth a couple yards away to see if anyone was iin it. No one. I exhaled when I heard something. I turned around. Carl was standing up by holding on to the roof of the Limo with his left hand, and the M92F in his right. I put his wallet in my pocked and started towards him. He fired once, and the silencer did it's job just fine. One round hit my right pectoral. I kept walking. He fired again, and again, and 2 more times after that very quickly. It hurt, it hurt bad, but somehow I kept going. When I got to him he dropped the pistol backed up into the Limo even more. I grabbed his neck with both my arms as hard as I could. He started to twitch and go into a Seizure. He wanted to scream but it's hard when your Vocal Cords are being smashed. I squeezed some more. His Siezures got violently shaky and his eyes got bright red, and were unusually big. They begged me to let him go as they got ready to pop out of their sockets. "Just a few more seconds there..." I wispered and held him in my grip.....

******************************************

11.

I woke up for the third time that day in the passenger seat of the Limo. I looked around. The window was still shattered. I looked down. My chest was still wet with blood. I took it off to check on the wounds. There were no wounds.....

*****************************************

[crazy]

:)

[Querida]

Surya, read it the day you posted but to rushed to leave comments...wow what suspense i like how you write of him gaining his whereabouts...kinda like the bourne identity and clayface from batman mixed....im wondering how the incident in Canada and this amnesiac man are connected...very intriguing indeed...did you extensively edit this one before posting?...it seems to flow nicely 8-)

[maithree]

S[/tscii:ebfa26177a]ooo sry I was gonna delete thi story, but suddenly got a surge of inspiration! :oops: :lol:

I'll be updating this regularly now! :D Will finish it before I start my MBBS Course! So the updates will come very frequently! :)

***********************************************

************************************************** **********************

My shirt was still wet with my own blood. I remembered it….the bullets tore through my Pectorals sending agonizing messages to my brain. There was nothing to be seen now. I looked around the car. It was clean except for the dead body in the back seat and pieces of shattered glass from the window. There were a few bloodstains on the back seat coming out of the empty sockets, which once held his eyes. I felt around my bloody chest with the tips of my fingers. Nothing. The Glove Compartment! I went for the glove compartment. It revealed a standard sized white envelope as it yawned open. Open It! I opened it. The Envelope had the large sum of two thousand American dollars. His Coat! I put it in my pocket and reached to the back seat and pulled his coat off of him along with the shoulder holster. A blood stained shirt didn’t seem like the right attire to go out on the street in. I ducked out of the car and put it on. Check The Pockets! I checked the pockets. He had no wallet. It was just the car keys. It was a Photograph of me. I opened the trunk with the keys. It was an interesting find. It was lined inside with a thick, clear plastic wrap. Carefully prepared for a single purpose -- the disposing of a body -- and his fit comfortably. I slammed the lid down and sat in the driver's seat. Now what? Disappointed and mildly sleepy, I let my hand trail along the black leather armrest till it touched the floor. It curled around something. I held it up. A set of matches labeled Cocktail Alley, 925 Venice Blvd, San Francisco, CA. It was a vague clue. But it was a clue. A Clue to my identity.

******************************* *********************************** *****

I zipped my coat up, and went back into the airport for a taxi. A yellow cab pulled over and a man with a turban and a big mustache looked at me through the passenger window. “Ver to shir?” he asked. I handed him the matchbox.
“The Address on there.” I said pointing to it.
“Okay.” I got in. Cocktail Alley, hope they had what I was looking for. Didn’t know what that was, but just hoped it was there.

************************************************* **********************

After about twenty minutes I arrived at the Cocktail Alley. It was a downtown, rundown little building, tucked indiscreetly between a corner store and a florist. The paint was a puke brown and peeling like a ripe banana. I looked at the Cab driver. “How much?”
“$45.56” he said pointing at the meter. I gave him a fifty from the stack in my pocket and got out. The chilly air gave me goosebumps. The ground was wet, the sky was clouded, and the breeze was cold. The driver handed me the change. I took it and stuffed it in my pocket. He took off. The neon sign flickered. I started towards the bar checking my holster. The silenced berretta was there. I could smell the Nicotine as I got closer to the bar. I opened the door and a pungent tobacco stench hit me in the face.

*************************************** ********************************

I found myself in a bare ten by ten room. From the ceiling hung a naked bulb giving off a dirty light. The tiny room was almost empty. Across from me I spotted a wooden door, guarded by a sleeping African American on a rusty metal chair. He was tall. Maybe six-five. His head was slightly lumpy and topped off with a buzz cut. His arms hung down from the chair he sat in. I quietly went towards the door, hand outstretched. His arm swung up with a 12-gauge shotgun pointed at my chest. I froze. His eyes opened slowly. "Hell you want? We closed." He scratched his chest with his other hand.
"Uh...I need a drink." He kept his eyes on me. They were like dark coals, just burnt out.
"I asked you a question. You didn't give me an answer." He said slowly bobbing the firearm up and down like he was following some beat in his head. The barrel seemed to growl at me like a hungry pitbull.
"I need to speak to someone inside."
"Come back when we open. I might let you in.” I sighed and turned around pretending to walk away. Then suddenly spun around and pushed the barrel away from me, showing him mine. He stared down the sights of the beretta. It was less than an inch in front of his face.
"Maybe you let me in now. I'm busy later." He thought for a moment before he pulled the shotgun back and stood up.
"I guess it's aight. Just don't make any trouble, you hear?" He pushed the door open behind him and stepped aside. I looked at the shotgun. “What? What do you want now?!”
“You weren’t going to pull the trigger were you?”
“Not yet atleast.” I slightly smiled and walked it.
“I hear.” I said and the door slammed behind me.

**********************************************

To be Continued....8-)

[madhu]

surya :arrow: maithree

:boo:

[pavalamani pragasam]

munnaadiyE kaNdupidichathuthaanE!

[madhu]

PP akka..

ippO open secret aayiduchu :lol:

ippo secret innum kuzhappA aayiduchu..
surya-> maithree -> rocky :P

[maithree]

Hmm...I thought everyone knew..:roll:

Surya got banned due to something in the Tamil Films section, so I'm here as Maithree thanks to my sis Wibho! :D

So rendu perum Kathaiya Padikalaiya?! :x

[crazy]

surya...........
enakku story marandhu pocchu ................its really tough reading the whole story again :( :D pls post ur next episode as soon as u can............ :D

good going :thumbsup:

[Querida]

Hey Surya....finished a paper and thought i'd treat myself with your story...treat it was...but buddy you better make sure to post the whole story..you're really killing with the suspense...keep it up! awaiting the next episode!!!! 8-) :D

[maithree]

[tscii:cd7734fbe6]T[/tscii:cd7734fbe6]hank You! :D Thank You! :D

Well here is the next....It's kinda slow, but it has a good ending I think. :)

*************************************************


The Cocktail Alley looked just as bad on the inside as it did on the outside. Dull jazz music played from a far off corner and a fog of cigarette smoke burned my eyes. I walked around an overturned table towards the bar where a burned out bum sat on a stool napping. His head rested on the counter and a small puddle of drool collected near his mouth. I took a seat next to him and looked around for anyone else. Except for us, the bar was empty. A plate clattered in the back and a man wearing an apron walked out. He saw me and took his place behind the counter.
“What can I get you?” he asked with a half smile.
“Some information.” The smile disappeared.
“Are you a Cop?”
“I'm not a cop. I just want to ask about a guy who might have came by recently.”
“Well in that case I didn't see them. So you're out of luck aren't you?” he replied with a smirk. A snort came from the bum next to us. I pulled a hundred from my pocket and laid it down on the counter. His eyes dropped to the bill. “Hmm. Maybe I did. What'd he look like?”
“Short guy, well built. Perhaps he had a friend.” The bum raised his head off the counter.
"Eh...I saw someone like that. He-he was short right? Sunglasses?" I glanced at the Bartender.
“Keep talking.”
“Wasn't he with uh-that doctor who always comes by? D-donald. No that wasn't it. Uh-“ He looked up at the ceiling for a minute.
"David. There you go. Don't know his last name though."
"David Wells. I know him. Regular here. Like this guy." The bartender cut back in, eager not to be left out on the hundred.
"Yeah?" I replied.
"Yeah. Comes by on Wednesdays." The bum forgot about the conversation and put his head back on the counter.
"Know where he lives?"
"I don't know, do I?" He replied, letting his eyes dip once at the money. I pulled out another hundred and slapped it down.
"I think you do."
"Hold on." He bent down beneath the counter and came back up with a black booklet. After a minute of flipping pages he stopped and copied down an address on a napkin. I didn't ask how he had it. How did he have it? I have no idea.
"Here it is." He handed it to me. Then he bent down to put the book away. I left the two bills on the counter and walked out of The Cocktail Alley. As the door slammed behind me again I walked to the street and stood on the Sidewalk for a few minutes wondering where I might find a Cab. Two busses and three cars drove by. A blue sports car, silver station wagon, and a black Sedan. I spotted a yellow Taxi about a block away. “TAXI!!” I yelled and the driver looked out of his window.

************************************************** **********************

The place was on the other side of the city on Church St. I drove past drugstores, restaurants, and the crooked street -- after awhile I found myself in Noe Valley. David Wells wasn’t very far away now. His office was on the second story of a quiet four way street. It was traditional San Francisco, with a Victorian touch to it. I guessed it was built almost a hundred years ago. There were no plaques or anything to identify it as an office. Maybe the address he gave me was fake. Maybe I'd have to go back and show him the barrel. The stairs leading up were on the side in the alley between it and the neighboring house. I sprinted up them and slowed when I got to the door. Then I was in a small room. To my left was a desk cluttered with papers and a woman whom I’d take for being in her mid thirties sat tapping at a typewriter. The walls were covered in pictures; some in color, some in black and white. Across from me was a black leather couch. A magazine rested on it. Next to the couch was a door with a small glass window at chest level. The woman looked up.
"May I help you sir?" she asked.
"Here for Dr. Wells." I replied.
"Appointment?"
"No."
"He's out right now. He won't be back till the afternoon." I looked through the small glass window. Nobody was there.
“Afternoon huh? That’s another hour and a half, to two hours.” I said with a frown.
“Yes, it is.” She smiled and nodded. “May I know what this is concerning?”
“I’m an old friend of his….um….I’d like to see him today because..um…I’m only in town for a couple of days.” I said.
“Oh..Okay, What is you’re name?” She asked.
“Um….Carl Watson.” I blurted the name of the Limo Driver. She jotted it down on a notepad and looked up at me.
“I’ll let him know that you were here.” She said. I nodded and walked out. I went down the stairs and looked around. The cold breeze ran through my body. I took a deep breath and looked around. There was a black Buick Sedan parked about a half a block from where I was standing. I took another breath and walked towards a Coffee shop about a block away on the opposite side. Friscan Café. I ordered a cup of Coffee but didn’t drink any, sat by the window and waited for Dr. Wells to come back to his Office.

************************************************** **********************

At quarter to One a silver Mercedes pulled inside the parking lot and a middle aged man with fuzzy balding red hair got out and adjusted his black suit. Was it Dr. Wells? He pulled a silver briefcase out of the Mercedes and went up the stairs to Well’s Office. It was. I put a Five Dollar bill on the table and went to meet him.

************************************************** **********************

"I'm going to ask you to leave sir."
"Well thanks for asking, but I think I'll just wait in his office if you don't mind." The direct approach. She stood up.
"Hey! You can't go in there!" She said as I pushed the door open. David Wells was a short man with fuzzy red hair. He could pass for mid thirties but I sensed he was a little older. His office was big with a large bay window looking out over the street. You could see the Golden Gate Bridge. The walls and his desk were crowded with pictures and marketing bippies. He sat reading a paper in a tall swivel chair. Opposite from him in the corner was a big leather recliner. It matched the couch. I turned around and closed the door. The secretary rapped her palm against the window.
"Dr. Wells! I'm sorry but I couldn't get him to leave! I'm going to call the police!" Dr.Wells looked Confused.
"Laura, I don't think that's necessary. Just continue with what you were doing." He called back. Laura watched me through the window as she backed up to her desk. I gave her a quick wave goodbye and strode over to Dr. Well's desk. He shrunk back from me like I was the boogeyman.
"Hello Dr. Wells."
"Hello..M-may I help you?" His hand was frantically shaking and his lips trembled.
"I think you can." I pulled the ID card I got from the chaffuir and slapped in on the desk. He flinched at the sound. He was scared and he knew.
“I’m not quite sure…” he said looking at the picture.
“Why did I find this on a man who tried to kill me at the airport? And why was he seen speaking to you at the Cocktail Alley?"
"I don't know what you're talking about."
"I’m talking about the guy who pump 6 bullets into my chest!” I put my palms on his desk and brought my face closer to his. “A guy I think you know very well." He shook his head a few times. His eyes looked like a deer's in the headlights of a car. "Better give me something..." I said looking deep into his eyes. He paused, took a deep breath, and composed himself.
"I suppose I shouldn't be surprised you're here. The chances that he would have succeeded were minimal." He said while staring down at the desk. Then he looked back up. "I sent that man to kill you Mr. Parker."

***********************************************

:D

[crazy]

:D

[Querida]

haha well it's obvious dr. red can't do the killing by himself...i wonder how he operates with nerves like that? :P

I don't know about that being a good ending...but it's damn good cliffhanger....how cruel....even dickens would put in a character sketch of a character never to be seen again :P (don't go and do that...i was just kidding!)

[Rocky_]

[tscii:5ab8d4730e]15.
“Why?!” I asked.
"I'm sorry that you've been immersed in this situation. It wasn't your fault." he stared at something behind me. I waited. On the desk was a large color photograph of an elderly man. He had his arms around a pair of twin boys. He was smiling. They were about four or five years old. They were smiling too. I looked back at Dr. Wells.
"I just want to know what this is about." I said. His eyes moved back to me slowly. They were curious.
"What is the last thing you remember?" he asked, cocking his head.
"What?"
"What is the last thing that you remember clearly?" he repeated. I thought for a second.
"Yesterday. I woke up on a plane. I didn't have any idea what was going on." His eyes widened even more. He immediately started to whisper to himself and searched through the papers on his desk. Then he sat up and looked out the bay window across the street.
"I can't speak to you now. They're watching." He ushered me quickly to the door. "You have to leave. As soon as possible. Anywhere except the U.S. or Canada. Your life is in danger. Move!" I looked at him.
"not until you tell me something I want to know! What's happening? Who's watching?!?" I grabbed him by the shoulders and pushed him back. He didn't seem to notice but instead fished around in his pocket for a moment. Then he handed me a business card.
"This man will answer your questions! You must speak to him! Now leave! You're endangering both our lives!"
"You still haven't --"
"Laura! Call the police! Now!" He yelled. I put the Business card in my pocket and backed out of his office. Laura hunched over the phone screaming something. I ran past her and flew down the stairs. Angry sirens diffused to the air nearby.

************************************************** **********************

I ran to the back of the stairs. A nine foot brick wall had to be passed to ditch the oncoming Police Cars. I looked around. Nobody was there yet. Leap Over The Wall! “What?” JUMP! I crouched down and with one leap flew over the wall into a dark alley bordered with iron Dumpsters. “What The-!” I said aloud and landed on my feet. Go!! I heard the Police Sirens getting closer and closer every second. I started to walk away trying to look normal as I exited the dark alley behind the Well’s Office.

************************************************** *
“So…who is she?”
“What?”
“Who are you sleeping with?!”
“Gloria, Come on!”
”Well what else am I supposed to think? I’m standing here naked next to you with the shower running, and you don’t even look at me!”
“I’m just getting late for work.”
“We don’t fuck anymore!”
“Jesus Gloria! You’re blowing this whole thing out of proportion. I’ve been busy with my latest Project at the Lab! That’s all! Once I finish it, everything will come back to Normal!”
“Don’t you think our marriage is in trouble? When was the last time we had a romantic Dinner? When was the last time you even had a normal dinner at the table?!”
“I’m getting late Gloria. We’ll talk about this later!”

************************************************** ***

I took out the busniness card. It said:
Dr. Zane Foster
Founder
Flawless Inc., Canada.
Flawless Inc. was a new company that just recently went public. I had seen a video ad for them at the airport. On the back of the card was a number to contact him. I turned my head to the right. The clock on the nightstand said 1 pm. Why was I so damn tired?

**************************************************

17.
"Good evening Dr. Wells. Eventful day today, wasn't it?"
"What do you want?"
"Now, now. That's no way to talk to your employer is it? I'm here to talk to you about some recent actions you've taken. Some of which are very serious."
"What are you talking about?"
"You and I both know that you attempted to prematurely terminate the program. This was meant to be an experiment.. If you had succeeded it would have been months before we could get another subject like this. Why did you do it?"
"I -- it was a mistake. I was fearful for the company."
"But there were no risks. I personally saw to that. More than you could imagine."
"Then you mean --"
"Yes. I got wind of what you were planning and took some precautions of my own. A small change was made before the deployment.. Tell me something. Who is your contact?"
"There's no one. I acted alone on this."
"Come on now. There's no way you could've known the location of the drop point. It was classified to just a few key personnel."
"It's the truth! I'm not collaborating with anyone inside the company!"
"Okay. I believe you. Will you allow me to introduce you to a friend of mine? You can come in now. Don't be shy."
"Oh god!"
"As you can see we've done an almost perfect job with this one. But this is different. It serves a different purpose than Protoform X. The brain is the hardest part, but even as we speak our northern branch is working on it. Now getting back to business, I'm going to ask one more time. Who is your contact?"
"I --"
"Here's a new approach. We're going to play a game. You will have three seconds to call the authorities and explain everything to them before I give the command to have every single finger on your right and left hand to be broken. Ready?"
"No -- please!"
"Three..."
"Mercy!”
“Two…”
“ I beg of you!”
“One..”
“NO! Please!!”
“Go Ahead Lance…”
“ Uh -- aghhh!"
"As you can see, Protoform A1 is in every way Flawless.”
[/tscii:5ab8d4730e]

[crazy]

:)

[Querida]

8-) wow 8-)

things just keep getting curiouser and curiouser :D