Body Up

Predator Press

[Mr Insanity]

Ethan, in an ill-fitting Letterman jacket, waved the VT pennant I gave him with little animation or interest.

“Is this so you can work on that new line of children’s books you’ve been talking about?” he asks.

“No,” I says, cleaning off my desk. There really isn’t all that much to pack ... I was hoping if I was quick enough, I could avoid this exact confrontation.

“But why Canada?” he moped.

“We’re having accreditation issues locally,” I reply.

“You couldn’t have picked a worse time,” Ethan complained. “With LOBO missing, I might even have to call Cobe back.”

“You should really rethink that sir,” I says, choosing my words carefully. “I mean face it, when the going got tough, the ‘tough’ were long gone.”

“So what are you saying?”

“I think you should pick your companions more carefully,” I shrug.

“Yeah, well … I hired you, and you’re going too.”

“Yes, but Ethan, I’m tired,” I says. “Give me some credit. For months, my life has been doing nothing but revolve around this--“ I look around the barren office, and I’m unable to capture anything tangible. I give up and shrug, “I just can’t be the only grown-up anymore.”

“Don't do this," sighs Ethan. "Not now. We just lost Gerald Ford --and soon Saddam Hussein-- two of our most influential and ardent fans. Mr. Insanity, this one of our darkest days.”

Sliding the heavy banker box off of the desk, I pause. “Seth,” I says.

“What?”

“My name is Seth.”

“How have you been cashing your paychecks?”

“I opened a checking account for the horse.”

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