A Neon Rattrap - Part 2
My first attempt at getting some good information should be from my most reliable of contacts The Pimp. His information is always good, but it always comes at a hefty price. Whether he wants payment up front or as a favor to be paid back later – you can bet you’ll be paying out the ass. Fortunately The Pimp likes me. I’m a real looker and he’s been trying to get into my pants for some time now. I don’t want this to be the night I have to “give it up” just for a tip… pun intended.
I was fortunate enough to have parents who left me some cash when they passed away before the central migration started about five years back. I spent the entire bundle on an illegal UV extractor, or at least that was what the box said it was. I get more than my fair share of vitamin D that has helped me to keep my muscle mass in tact mostly. Standing taller and broader than most of the nightlife gives me an edge in a psychological warfare sense. It of course also draws unwanted attention, in The Pimp’s case unwanted sexual attention.
A Neon Rattrap - Part 1
At three A.M. the burning sets in. A new sensation in a new location to keep me awake for another hour or at least until the pain fades. Rubbing the dead skin and pungent fungus from between my smaller toes for the past twenty minutes finally reached a raw level of irritation. Pleasure or satisfaction slipped quickly into an uncomfortable ache, which has catapulted itself into the current throbbing flame that exaggerates the wrinkles between my digits.
My self induced insomnia which frequently betrays me with my attempted, and also self induced, narcolepsy keeps me at bay from forgetting my primary task at hand. I’ve been charged with finding the secret behind Wormwood. Unfortunately for me that’s the only information I’ve been given. The cynic in me temps perusing the phone book for high profile men with small peckers – but my jobs are never as easy as I presume they could be.
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