Sleep does not come easy for a killer with a conscience. In fact, it remains ever elusive following a job. The more successful the job, the less likely there will be sleep. Alan is no exception to this rule, which is the only reason he isn’t rudely awakened by the pounding on his door. Throwing on a bathrobe and grabbing a nearby pistol, he walks to the front door of his apartment and stands off to the side as he gazes through the peephole.
Wonderful.
He opens it and breathes a heavy sigh.
Detective Moran. To what do I owe the displeasure?
The detective sneers and looks Alan up and down. Still awake, huh?
I’m a light sleeper.
Moran nods and asks if he can come in. Alan tells him he can, but may he?
Moran sneers again, his bearded face a mask of annoyance. How about we cut the crap?
(Shrugging) Fine. Let me just open my robe up nice and wide.
(Face contorted) Excuse you?
Well, if you’re gonna bust my balls as usual, I might as well grant total access.
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