SYWTSAD?

I always expected a stakeout to be fun. Interesting, even a little entertaining. But me and Lass were sitting in the car for nearly three hours before an impromptu game of I Spy had begun. Of course I had tried to send Lass into the building, invisible, as it would have been the easiest method to check the place out, but there was salt at every doorway and window, he must have figured out that I was onto him, and if I had gone in to disturb the salt he would know I had been in there. So we sat, waiting, watching. "I spy, with my little eye... something... brown." I sighed "Is it the rusty pipe again Lass?" The rusty pipe was a drain pipe that was barely clinging to the building, an old red-brick factory from when the rust belt still ran strong and sure, probably still hooked up to the cities power grid, held together now by 20's engineering and a long rotted American dream it was built on. "Poo, this game is only really ever good when you are driving."...

 I was awakened early by a phone call from Charlie, my cop, who I fuckin' forgot to call the night before. It hadn't helped that a full bottle of Jack was killed the evening before after I sent Lass back to hell with a full 5 pack of chew canisters, a bottle of cheap sparkling white, and a bottle of some kind of rum that Levon had recommended Lass try. I was pretty sure I was overdrawing my account on the last one, but I stopped giving a fuck after about my third swig that morning, and now at a fine 2:30 PM my headache was just starting to enter full swing. "Rodney! Wake the fuck up, we got a problem." he yelled into my skull from the wireless landline. I grunted into the handset, heading downstairs and walking over to Chekov on her rack. "I'm on my way..." Charlie sighed "And don't bring that fuckin' shotgun. I don't want to explain that thing to my bosses." I let my hand rest against her stock, and patted the butt of the gun. ...