It's a Dirty Job

 

Majesterium

He sat surrounded by orange and red and yellow pillows. All he could think of was to get rid of her. That's where he was in life. "Let's have a cocktail at the Sundown Lounge," she said. "It's so fancy!" Her voice shrilled throughout the fancy rooftop. And now, here he was, pondering whether he could break the glass he was holding, and stab her with it quickly enough. Well, he did try. But the damn lounge had some pretty sturdy glasses. "It's a dirty job, but someone's got to do it," he later told his cellmate. "I trust you."

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