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Deep Into a Well

"You really don't give a rat's ass, do you?" Agent Jak asked Max.

Max was bound in a chair. He had this feeling that these guys wanted something, something he couldn't give them since he didn't know what the hell they where talking about.

"Let's give him a minute to think about it," Agent Lendes replied. He was taking a sip from a Good Tomes coffee cup. "Let's see if the fog clears away from his circuits."

Max didn't know what the hell was going on around him. All he knew was that he was walking towards his job when this van pulled up and these men in black reached out and grabbed him and gassed him.

"I'm no terrorist," Max proclaimed.

"We know bonehead," Jak answered curtly. Jak was getting tired of this shit. "You can quit this bullshit act of yours anytime. The sooner you do, the sooner our lives will be easier."

"What do you mean?" Max asked.

And he received a backhand as an answer. Blood spilled from his lips and onto the floor and Max's eyes narrowed on the blood stain on the floor. It was a pattern. A look of recognition slowly dawned upon his face.