In the middle of the night I got a phone call from an unknown number. I brushed my hand through my messy blonde hair and pick it up. The voice said "It's 'Harry' from management. We have a problem! There's big mess over by the Condos on 122nd se st! One of the residents' water pipe burst, wet all over! The whole building is gonna be flooded soon... hope you can get this shit ASAP... Don't go easy on the mop! I recommend ya' be quiet about it", I hung up the phone and sighed. This is the third message this week, and it's always the same. It's go here, do this this, be discreet. But I have no other choice. I get in my car, arrived at the spot, got my bat and chicken mask, and "fixed the pipes". But all I remembered the next day was seeing in the newspaper, "Miami Mutilator brutally murders Russian mobsters and leaves, the only evidence found was a blood stained rubber chicken mask with written on the side...". And then I remembered what "he" told me in that house, and whispered it over and over again. Moments later I heard the phone ring and finally said, "Do you like hurting other people?" before the phone rang again./span/p