At noon, every weekday for the last five years, Roland found himself here, at the Pizza Hut® in Mokena, Illinois. They were the proud host of an all-you-can-eat pizza lunch buffet from eleven AM to two PM. It was a match made in heaven, Roland loved pizza.
Let me tell you what’s what. None of this is easy; it just looks that way. It’s all about maintaining perfect duality. One persona must be saintly, and the other, demonic with hard limits. No killing, duh. No waterboarding. No wedgies. It’s what separates the true vigilante from the psychopath. Don’t become the psychopath; I will take you down swiftly and efficiently. It is difficult distinguishing the difference between one gray area placed on top of another gray area, but you have to. Bottom line: zero casualties equals winning. If you step back and look at it, how much different is it than being a responsible and reliable accountant?
St. Louis sucked. Everything about it. The people. The deteriorating infrastructure. The local television news crew. The constant stench of beer and urine. The radio stations. The transportation system. The stickiness. To make things worse, this was the third day of unrelenting rain. It was miserable.
It was surprising how perfectly fitting her name was, especially considering how simple her parents were. Their idea of birth control was a month long vacation by car with the whole family, all seven or eight of them, later there would be nine or ten. They were not bright people. To further express this point, if all had gone right, Patina’s name would have been Patella. They were absolutely crazy for the kneecap, and who wasn’t? It was the late 1970s.
The sound of a switchblade and a motorbike.
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