Were the stories running dry?
'No,' said Jack, my brother, who was living it up at Big Tit Inc. headquarters in East Java.
What you mean? I asked.
We were communicating online.
'There's a Miss Indonesia contest coming up in Jember next week,' he said, 'would love it if both you and Max could make it.'
I knew where this was going.
'Yes, as you both know,' he continued, 'it's a magnet for terrorists, who forge friendship with the cream of society, only to betray their friendship and social standing with a devastating bomb attack.'
Right, I got it.
Not only would we catch the bad guys, we'd also have a chance at recruiting.
'You mean fucking the pretty ones?' asked Max.
He wasn't the smartest tool in the box, but boy could he connect the dots.
'Sharpest, not smartest,' said Max.
I also deserved that slap over the head.
'No,' said Jack, my brother, who was living it up at Big Tit Inc. headquarters in East Java.
What you mean? I asked.
We were communicating online.
'There's a Miss Indonesia contest coming up in Jember next week,' he said, 'would love it if both you and Max could make it.'
I knew where this was going.
'Yes, as you both know,' he continued, 'it's a magnet for terrorists, who forge friendship with the cream of society, only to betray their friendship and social standing with a devastating bomb attack.'
Right, I got it.
Not only would we catch the bad guys, we'd also have a chance at recruiting.
'You mean fucking the pretty ones?' asked Max.
He wasn't the smartest tool in the box, but boy could he connect the dots.
'Sharpest, not smartest,' said Max.
I also deserved that slap over the head.
