That’s How the Cookie Crumbles (part 10)

Note: if you’re reading this, you must be literate.

As I was eating my horrible hospital food, someone came knocking on my room’s door.
“Who is it?”
“It’s me.”
It was the new editor. What does she want?
“Come on in.” She entered the room. She stood near the door.
“How’d you find me? Why are you here?”
“Got a call from this hospital. Turns out, The Chronicle is your emergency contact.”
“Yeah, so? Who else am I gonna call?”
“ANYWAY, the reason why I’m here is your article. Where is it? It’s due midnight.”
“As you can see, my right arm’s in a cast.”
“I know you’re ambidextrous.”
“Wait, how did you know that?”
“I checked my father’s records. He’s got a file on all of his present and former writers.” That just raised the weirdness level in me. That creepy old man.
“Anyway, I’ve got something that might interest you.” She handed me a thick brown envelope. I opened it. It was full of records and photographs.
“What is this?”
“Remember the Statue?”
“Yeah. Why?”
“That’s everything you need to know about the Statue. The materials bought. The materials used. The tax money needed. You get my drift?”
“Yeah. You want me to do inventory?”
“No. Look at the records again.” I did check. Something’s wrong here. The numbers don’t add up.
“Don’t tell me. Corruption?”
“Yes. Corruption. You think you can expose that?”
“Can’t you get the cops to do that?”
“The cops? Think straight, idiot. You think you can trust the cops around here?”
“D’oh. What’s in it for me?”
“A permanent job.”
“I’ll take it.”
“Let’s get you out of here.”

This really is my lucky day.

END OF PART 10 to be continued

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One Response to “That’s How the Cookie Crumbles (part 10)”

  1. This is Part 10. Damn it.

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