I slipped quietly back into the
warehouse, the dirty brown paper bag in my arms. I could see the raised eyebrows questioning my
package and let a little smile slip out. Inside was one of those large
pickle jars with a
penis and
testicles suspended inside. It's amazing what one can buy on the South side of
Chicago for the right amount of money. I have never enjoyed
cigarettes, but it seems to me like I should have one now, stuck lightly to my lower lip while I laugh around it. I glance up to see
Rob's face break into a glowing
grin as he figures out what is in the jar.
Senor, necesito comprar un pene. Ryan hands out the com gear and I slip the head set over my ears and adjust the mic to my mouth.
"Range?"
"Enough." I leave the rest of my questions aside and put the jar underneath some oil rags in the trunk. I also stopped at Taco Bell on my way back and spent the next few tossing burritos to my companions. It was a good day to be alive.
-clampe-
--Letters from a Savior; Offer for a few--
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