“Please help me I need to get rid of this. Is there anywhere for me to sell my soul? I’m being honest to God. I want to sell it.” The store owner looked at the disheveled character.His eyes bewildered, face distorted with misery and sweat leaping from its pores. “I’m only a sales clerk. I sale items you purchase from the store and and” The clerk checked his surroundings nervously. “I’ve no idea of how to handle your type of request. Are you suffering some type of,” The clerk paused searching for the right words. “Are you high on something? Shrooms? Acid? Any mental illness?” The bewildered man ran away from the clerk with great panic. A scattered look in his eyes as if some serious reason tortured him. The clerk shook his head and continued stocking his shelves. The man returned with a large black gun. When the clerk looked to see who entered the store the barrel of the gun was pointed at his nose. “I’m a real real bad guy you hear me? No snickers, no behind the counter products, just lead me to a person that can handle the request. Fear engulfed the clerk. A moment of clarity struck the moment the gun toting man turned the lock to the door.” This is real, wake up and smell the gun powder. I will blow your fucking brains all over this paper” He pointed at the news stand. “Headlines you understand me!” The clerk silenced into understanding, knew this critical second even if just imagined had to go places he didn’t want to go.

Major McCormick
DOC #686167