The clicking of the keys as I wrote my report, damn, why did I drink all of my vodka in one night? This report is such a pain to write out, not only did I not really defeat Stain, but now I have to write about what I did, based on whatever details that mutt gave me.
My head turned to the window, I really should be patrolling. In fact I would be enjoyingly monitoring my normal routes if it wasn’t for this infernal pounding in my head. It reminds me of when there was this infuriating sound wave creator a couple ranks behind me when I was young. The damn guy would also sound off like a vicious battle drumming everytime he was even in the top 50.
I scrunched up my nose, if I can’t patrol I’ll just finish as much paper work as possible. I leaned down to open the bottom left drawer from my desk. I pulled…. and, it didn’t budge. Not like it usually does.
I jiggled the drawer up and pulled again this time it practically sprung open and a few papers went with it.
Now, I pride myself on my neatness, among other things. I always complete my reports within a day, I keep my cases organized and my desk free of unnecessary items. All except for this drawer, this drawer has every unfinished, indecipherable, nonsense report ever. This is the one junk drawer I have ever and will ever have in my life, and today I am determined to get through this.
I turned back to the computer, right after this damn report.