The way of the meta-warrior or apologies to Brad Thor

Day 5,586, 16:36 • Published in USA USA • by Trite of the northern Penguins

Patiently waiting for the next bolt of lightning to illuminate his surroundings enough to finish reading the last discord message from his contact, what had happened, where was the coded message for the rural Delaware brothel, a Lutheran deacon had set up in the not quite abandoned church’s annex, location?

Scott Harvath figured his clandestine night-out would instead be another lonely night swimming in his tears, without the money for Botox treatments, them Delaware deacon’s do not sellout their own cheaply. He would have to wait a few minutes, before running the extension cord he had fashioned from aluminum siding and duck tape, across the street to the used tire business about to close, it provided just enough juice to power the bulb suspended above his cutting board, under his lean-too, enough for him to see his fingers as he chopped the onions.

His girlfriend, when she had still been speaking to him, convinced Scot he could get a modeling job despite his squalid lifestyle because of his life experiences written across his face, he just needed to shave off a few years. AND if he religiously chopped the onions daily, surely it would be the same effect as Botox, but cheaper. As he started pulling onions out of the shack, he remembered, if he wanted his girlfriend to start speaking again, he would have start peeling the onions before dicing ...

As the tears welled up again, he thought about his lost contact, had he gone on alone into the goodnight? And who was this ‘trite on’ character he had invited to the smack down channel ... are empty invites the way of the meta-warriors 🤠