Stan was going to his promised land.
It's a nice place to die.
He was sending out hints that he was unhinged.
That will get them thinking.
He had recently taken out life insurance.
That's a lot of money to live on in Asia.
His eventual destination was Brown Sugar, a little archipelago of tropical islands off India in the Andaman Sea.
All he had to do was fake his death.
That was the easy part.
Scams made up the fabric of his life.
If he wasn't scamming then he wasn't existing.
One million fucking dollars, boy that will set me up for early retirement.
He always liked the big send-offs.
He just had to make sure he didn't take his role too seriously.
He was the first to admit he loved the taste of chemicals.
But Brown Sugar..
Take me to the promised land.
He'd hum that like some Eastern mystic. It was his mantra, and if repeated it often enough, he'd manifest it.
A fake passport, that was sorted. ID to match it, can do.
For most, pulling off a scam like this would be impossible. For Stan, it was just another gig that would eventually take away the responsibility of working forever.
Brown Sugar was only an hour's flight to Bangkok.
It would be his base.
Asia would continue being his playground, but this time on his own terms.
