Pigs

Predator Press

[Mr. Insanity]

"Thank you for joining us," says the guy. He flips his FBI badge. "My name is Agent Parker."

"Yeah, okay," I says, flirting with the waitress.

Parker continues, "You understand it's your Patriotic Duty to elaborate on the," he pauses, "various activities you have alarmed us to."

"'Patriotic Duty' my ass," I says, wolfing the omlette down. "I'm making six figures annually now, after thirty years at eighteen-thousand per. What the fuck are you making? Forty? You're maybe, what, twenty four?"

"Twenty-six," Parker offers.

"Twenty six, fuck off," I says chewing loudly. "I've eaten Twinkies older'n you I bought on e-bay." I scrarf like a whole piece of french toast in my mouth. "I was waking up on sidewalks and sleeping under bridges at your age. Now I finally got a good gig going."

Slopping up the plate with my toast, I drive it home. "If you want intelligence, my 'cash flow' issues are going to have to be," I point at him with my soggy french toast, "... mitigated."