HIGH CALIBER, SQUARE JAW
Locked, loaded, and ready to go.
We are several floors up. There are several floors of investment bankers across the street. One of these days, boys, one of these days.
Shank Dog - got gun, will travel.
Dot dot dot
Earlier today I overheard a conversation in which the following phrases occurred: “That looks terrible!” "Oh my G-d!" “You mean your doctor let you go like that?” "Yipes!" “It’s non-infectious.” "If anybody saw that, they’d be scared out of their gourd."
I do not know what the ailment is that elicited the comments, nor what it looks like. But I can imagine. Shank Dog's department probably has something to do with it – perhaps there was a leak from the lab. Someone broke the isolation on a tank of goo. We’re no longer sterile.
I’m thinking in terms of a Biblical plague or a Central-American parasite.
I really don’t have clear picture what EXACTLY they do in the design department. Testing, experiments? Lab rats, children?
Data is provided on a need to know basis, and I’m just an accountant.
All I know is that we sell “things”. “Things”, that’s what those are, “things”. Right? Shank Dog and his crew develop things.
The expression ‘weapons grade’ should not ever come to mind, forget that you heard it, just forget.
There’s no such critter.
We are investment bankers.
That is all.
I have NO problem with anything we sell. I will just repeat that I don’t know what it is.
Please don’t ask.
Still doesn’t explain why Shank Dog was at the window with an assault rifle…..
It’s Friday, I’m leaving soon, and I ain’t gonna say a darn thing. Just keep my mouth shut.
He probably won’t be here much longer.
Have good and safe weekend, y’all.
Labels: Shank Dog