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Dropping The Jigsaw

The kids call it dropping the jigsaw. I call it one hell of a clusterfuck but that's the military training coming out. I really don't know what the mess is to begin with but I guess it snowballed into one hell of a shitstorm.

Well, you know that kid who lived three doors down? He was a quiet, shy one that played tons of videos games. I thought I would read his name in the paper one of these days as someone who just "went off". Strange huh? He had that aura about him. Which is a strange hue to begin with, but oh well, time would tell, I guess.

This kid cruised by on a huge motorcycle this morning, which was pretty freakin' weird since he looked like he'd put on several pounds as well as lots of tattoos. Tons of em all over his body and I was like what the hell? So, I go over to his parents and knock on the door to inquire what was going on and some young stoned girl answered and I asked to see Mr. Harboch.

The biker kid shows up and I asked about his dad and the fellow told me that his father had passed on years ago. And I was like what the heck man, I was just chatting with him the other day over the BBQ and a beer. The kid looked at me strangely and shut the door. That's when I saw that the neighbourhood I had lived in was all changed; grittier, darker like a Quentin Tarantino movie.

What is going on?