Unlike my previous captive audience he was not so willing to be my sounding board. Hands on techniques however can be very persuasive. I am not bragging but when I set my mind to something I rarely have trouble getting it accomplished. Unfortunately I don't always stay focused enough to set my mind to anything. I could rule the world if I just had more of an attention span.Now, where was I ... ah yes the peasant. He smelled like the fields. Like sweat. Like onions and sulls. He was so close to the soil maggots writhed in his shadow waiting for him to sink just a little lower. I packaged him nicely. No maggots for him. It would be too poetic, too predictable. Besides the butcher did me a good turn last week and I owe him one. Isn't feeding the hungry one of those things one has to do for sainthood?
They frown on carrying weapons in the city proper. One of those control things. Does not stop anyone but the law abiding. The unlawful never paid attention to the laws anyway except to find more interesting ways to avoid getting caught. We are such creative little bastards.
It was a couple of nights later and I was actually not carrying any weapons. Lax of me. I suppose my recent high might have had something to do with my carelessness. All full of myself. I was on my way to the local "landfill" to dispose of a few extra bits when I ran into a couple of guys I would rather have avoided. They were intent on collecting some things from me I didn't have any more and they were more than willing to substitute my flesh pound for pound. I stashed my collection and then I did the only thing I felt appropriate at the time. I ran.
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