2013
She never believed she would ever be in this room again, not after what happened eight-years ago. She had sworn black-and-blue back then that her days of helping others were over until they started helping her in return. But time can change a person and no matter how precious those pertaining memories were to her, their iron grasp upon the emotions that had originally fuelled many tear soaked nights were slowly loosening and falling into the realm of the forgotten.
Where once she had stood opposite this same desk, spitting a tirade of hellfire and brimstone, she had now learned from sad and bitter experience that her anger, righteous or not, can only get you so far in achieving your goal. And any directed hatred towards others does very little to ease your own guilt in the loss and neglect of a friend.
Eight years.
Eight desperate and lonely years.
Could it really have been so long?
Has it truly been eight years since she last saw his smile, heard his laugh or had even offered a polite giggle as he exclaimed an excited 'Booyah!' Somehow, in her haunted memories, it seemed a lot longer to her.
She remembers back with mixed emotions to when all this misery began for her. She and Ron had both graduated Middleton High and the world was now open to them in away that it had never been before. They were both viewed as adults, not only in age but also in deeds. She had, as expected, graduated with distinction in all her subjects and every College she had applied for, and some she didn't; all came knocking on her door with the invitation to attend them. She could not contain her excitement, especially when she received an opportunity of a lifetime to be enrolled at Oxford University in England with a full Scholarship already issued in her name, if she had wanted it. And she did.
The prestige associated towards attending this exulted School was one she dreamed of for many years and one she could not easily pass up. Ron, unfortunately, had found that unlike her the ambitious piles of applications he had sent out months earlier had few responses in the 'We're-interested-in-You' Department. His school grades, though fair, were not of the same caliber of her own and despite her enquiries to the Academic Administration Office of Oxford University (on his behalf) she was told that they had lacked the same confidence she did towards his abilities in maintaining a minimum course average. As such they declined her suggestion of him participating in a joint-scholarship program with her.
This news devastated all hopes she held for the pair proceeding together to the same College and she did not wish to start this new and exciting 'adventure' without him. But Ron being Ron was excessive in his encouragement for her to pursue her happiness and dream and did not want to be an obstacle in making this 'journey-to-higher-learning' a difficult one for her.
The sad-funniness of it all, and one which had caused many sleepless nights for years since that fateful parting was that regardless of whether Oxford would have accepted her boyfriend or not, she had committed herself to the decision of going anyway. Prepared to leave her boyfriend behind in Middleton, willing to pursue a long-distance relationship with him. She had only let Ron believe he had convinced her as an offering to his ego and to help make him feel better in believing that he had made a contribution towards this decision and 'sacrifice'.
It was not easy to say goodbye to the one boy who had been the center of all the good in her life and to then place her finger on the 'relationship-pause-button'. But she did, with the promise to him that regardless of the days that followed that she would keep in daily touch with him and that they will see each other again during the first school holidays.
So with this solemn promise to the first true love of her life, and with the rest of 'The Fam' in tow, she was driven to the International Terminal of Lowerton Airport to depart for her new life of academia overseas. And even though she knew that it was 'No Big' to place their romance on hold and that Ron would remain true to her, she was however concerned to how Ron would manage remaining in Middleton all alone and attending the local Community College by himself.
Monique had moved to New York to pursue an apprenticeship in Fashion Design through the Club Banana Fashion House, and Felix had been accepted into Cal. Tech to study Robotics. And even though Kim knew that Ron would have been happily kept busy in the Pet Section of Smarty Mart, there was a small 'snobbish' part in her that wanted him to aspire to being more then a Red-Vest-Wearing Drone of a Mega Sales Corporation. So with this in mind she spent the previous night before her departure writing a detailed report on the subject of Ronald Dean Stoppable and then e-mailing it to Dr. Betty Director's private account at Global Justice.
She knew that in the next few weeks that there would be their annual GJ Recruitment Drive and she desperately wanted Ron's name to be submitted to the pile of possible candidates. And even though she strongly suspected within her that the chances of Ron actually being accepted into the same organization that revered a stiff-shirt like Will Du as the best of the best was an equal part slim to a nothing chance. She was still hoping that the invitation to participate in recruitment process would help offer Ron the impression that if GJ had thought he was worthy to interview then it might inspire him to pursuing something better then working for minimum wage for Mr. Smarty.
The Report she made was as lengthy as it was concise. It outlined all his positives and downplayed all of his negatives. Both private knowledge and public were written of with gusto, from him being a destined Monkey Kung Fu Master to also possessing infiltration skills way in advanced of many others his own age. The only request she made to Betty was on part of keeping her involvement confidential and to not make Ron think he was being considered as a personal favor to her, but rather one based upon his own merits.
That morning before she left for the Airport, Dr Director e-mailed her back offering her an assurance that this request would be happily honored. And everyday for two weeks she and Ron spoke and e-mailed each other, regardless of the differences in the Time zone. And she waited both quietly and excitedly for the not to distant day when Dr Director would keep her word and send him an official GJ invitation and then have him brag to her, in a very typical Ron-type fashion, that Global Justice wanted to consider making him an Agent-in-Training.
Eventually, Ron received in the mail a printed directive for him to come into the Middleton GJ Headquarters for an interview. He could not contain his enthusiasm. It was, in truth, the first time in over two weeks where his 'Ronshine' actually made it all the way to his eyes and she was excited that she had played a part in making him feel good about himself and his future.
The next day he left for his appointment with Global Justice, leaving Rufus in the care of the Tweebs. And then …. nothing.
He disappeared that day.
Even the locator-chip implanted by Wade years earlier wasn't sending out a signal that could be traced or found anywhere on the Globe. And as troubling as this discovery was for her to discover, it only left her and the 'Hacker-extraordinaire' with only one extraordinary conclusion. Ron, despite the impossible, had actually managed to pass all the criteria expected of him to become a Field Agent and was now, at that moment in time, in the Ultra-Secret Agency's Training Campus.
Weeks became months and no word from Ron was ever sent, either to her or his own family. And when Oxford's first round of vacations began she flew back home to America on the first available International Flight to visit her family and to also approach GJ Headquarters with the humble hopes of Dr Director bending some of the strict rules in place, allowing her to spend time with her boyfriend before she had to return hack to Oxford.
So it was in this same office, which she now sat, that Dr Betty Director informed her with a very surprised expression plastered across her eye-patched face, that there had been no interview with Ron Stoppable. There was no interview, because she never received the e-mail Report on Ron that Kim had claimed she had sent to her 'Mailbox' months earlier. Accusations were made by her of a 'cover-up' and then demands to the 'lying pirate skank' on the whereabouts of her Boyfriend.
Betty's response to Kim's irrational panic and concern was to press a button upon her desk and invite a dozen Field Agents into her office abode in order to successfully subdue the teen hero without harming her. Kim was then placed in a holding Cell until she had calmed down and was prepared to talk to the GJ Leader in a reasonable fashion.
She remained in that 12-by-8 foot locked room for 2-days, refusing any food and water until 'her' Ron was bought to her. But by the end of the 48-hour solitude and chosen-starvation all of her strength and fury had ebbed away to one of exhaustion. Only then did Dr. Director again approach her and once again the words that had left the Senior Spy's mouth were ones of assurance that Global Justice was unaware of the fate of Ron Stoppable and that they had never received an e-mail from her or sent out any 'invitation' for him to join their ranks.
Kim wanted to believe her in the same way that she wanted to disbelieve her. For to believe Dr. Director's guarantee was also to also believe that Ron had disappeared without any trace and that she in her confidence and complacency had willingly allowed any possible trail to finding him become cold and frigid. Still there was something about the manner in which Dr. Director had managed her and this situation that seemed to her as suspicious.
At her eager urging, Wade, did a complete and stealthy gutting of their data-banks for any reference towards Ron. The boy-genius found nothing aside from the standard old notes that had been stored aside referencing the 'Ron-Factor' Project and Zorpox persona. But still, even with no evidence pointing to complicity, Kim, continued to hold doubts towards the honesty of her former Mentor. Dr. Director was far to 'distant' and evasive and any reliable information could have been easily purged in those three-days before contact was made was made by her with Wade to double check their claims.
Kim refused to return to England to continue her education and instead devoted all of her time to finding her former partner. She had dried up all of her bank of favors searching for any clue to the whereabouts of Ronald Dean Stoppable. Even some people who she once looked upon as foes happily volunteered their extensive influence to aid her cause. The Senior's placed a 50,000,000 bounty on any reliable information that could lead to the location of Ron (dead or alive). The trouble with this though was that with a reward of this magnitude it only incurred Wade to spend 99 of his time back checking all of the false leads supplied by unreliable and greedy people. The other 1 were those who had been genuinely mistaken.
With three-years of no success and a worldwide campaign that had placed the search of the 'Lindbergh Baby' to shame, Kim, had to accept that Ron was most likely gone … for good. And that it was equally probable that one of her and his many enemies that had done the deed. Unfortunately, every likely suspect from Gill to the still petrified Monkey Fist had an alibi and was untouchable to this suspected crime.
Slowly she moved on with her life. She fell in love, and just as quickly, she fell out of love several times in the coming years. Choosing to stay in Middleton and looking after Rufus until he also 'moved on' to the great Bueno Nacho Restaurant in the sky. To the little-guy's credit, he stayed alive 5-years longer then the normal life expectancy of a Mole-Rat. The only suspected cause for this was that he, like his new Mistress, had held out hope that one-day they would again be reunited with his 'Human'.
When Rufus passed on the last and final link to Ron, the boy she loved and the one she offered her heart too had been effectively severed. Both her parents, the Stoppable's and Hanna (who could barely remember her older 'brother') begged her to return to living for herself and no longer for the ghost of a memory. But to do something like that meant that she needed closure. And that was something she feared she would never have.
So now here she sat, in a seat of harshly uncomfortable molded plastic. The summons she received was unexpected and had directed her to personally arrive with haste to Middleton GJ Headquarters, under the United States Government Directive #29444662. She could have come willingly or she could have been taken by force. She had chosen the former and not the later, as any fight she once possessed was no-longer held in her spirit.
As the clock chimed 3:00pm an aged man with the appearance of a Professor and coiled wisdom entered the lonely office and sat behind the desk she had been awkwardly facing for 15-minutes. He did not look towards her or even acknowledged her presence. He slid a single sheet of paper across the varnished desk accompanied with a black pen. He did not communicate with words but his eyes told her the story to read the document and then sign it.
Picking up the offending piece of paper, the former teen heroine skimmed down the sheet. Atop and center was the emblem of the CIA. The contents contained on the page were a confidentiality agreement she had never in her life seen before. It was made clear that if the signer was to divulge the coming information to anyone outside of 'the know' on the topic in question of the 'Treadstone Project' or anything else related. That she, and the recipient she shared this information with would be dealt with extremely. What was unnerving was that throughout the document there was no reference made to prison, only 'extreme management'.
Kim's experience told her that she should get up and walk out the door, effectively washing her hands in playing any role. But her curiosity won out and her signature found a home on a dotted line at the bottom of the page.
With slick efficiency, the man retrieved the contact and pressed a button on the underside of the desk. In seconds, Dr. Director entered followed behind her by Field Operative Will Du. With contempt, Agent Du, accepted the paper from the man sitting at the desk and left the room.
As soon as the door was closed, Betty Director activated a remote that was placed upon her belt buckle and the sound of a lock could be heard clicking closed and the hissing of expelled air from the window frames.
"My Office is now secure and sound proofed, Sir."
"Alright then. Sit down, Betty."
Kim looked upon the Senior Agent and to her surprise the 45-year old woman made no effort to reclaim her desk and chair from the 'stranger', but rather sat down besides her.
As if reading her mind the man offered the 26-year old an amused smile to her obvious surprise. "One of the benefits of age and seniority, Ms Possible. When you plant yourself, no-one dares to uproot you." With a surrender of a smile, the aged man continued. "My name is not important, at least not important for you to know, and believe me, Kimberly, if you did then that would be a bad thing. Just look upon me as a man who is asking for the specific services of the worldwide adventurer and former teen-heroine, Kimberly Anne Possible."
"If you are asking me to save the world, country, city or even a town block, I would like you to know Mister Man that I'm officially retired."
With an edgy smirk on his 60-year old face the stranger replied. "Mister Man? Not bad, as pseudonyms go I could live with that, though I have to confess it lacks abit of originality that I would have placed upon a forward thinker such as yourself. But no, Ms Possible. It is not your heroics I wish to engage, but rather a … psychological understanding. And as to the question of retired? Given the excitement of your earlier life, I sincerely doubt that such a decision was one of choice. Besides, even if you had 'retired' I would have had to have called you out of it."
"Why?"
"An operative of ours who has recently gone 'off the ranch', so to speak. And we need someone of your background and knowledge to track him down before things get out of hand. For him, us and this country that we call home."
Kim couldn't help but like this man, despite the circumstances of her being asked to return to the room of her last and greatest failure. His tone though was warm and friendly also carried confidence and barring towards the significance of the words he spoke. And in this she found, despite herself, an appreciation for the man. But she was refusing to let her guard down and remembering the CIA insignia on the contract she had just signed a couple of minutes before, the only question that placed itself in her mouth was the obvious one. "Are we talking defection?"
Leaning forward and showing a glint in his eye that told Kim that he was pleased with her participation in the conversation, Mr. Man, slowly shock his head in the negative. "Doubtful, but to be honest my dear, we're not entirely sure either. We just know that it is totally out of character for him to break protocols and run his own game-play without getting it approved by the Team Captain, if you know what I mean. Infact up, Ms Possible, until a week ago we had all, more or less, come to the erroneous conclusion that as his assigned 'Target' had not been … removed, that he had infact met with befallen circumstances. Circumstances that would have relieved us of his services - permanently. Which was, to be honest, something of a pity as he was one of our most reliable and most accomplished assets in the field? No, Ms Possible not defection, it is I fear something significantly worse."
"And that is?"
"Retirement."
"Excuse me? Speaking as someone who does see themselves as retired, how can such a thing possibly be worse then defection?"
"Kimberly, I am not going to insult your intelligence towards what you might already suspect my role is. I am a 'Handler' of problem solvers. I give present various trained people problems that exist for the United States, and ask them to solve such problems permanently without any connection being made to the present Administration.
"An individual who shifts their allegiances are usually, and often, people who can see the benefits of accepting 'deals'. Such people can be negotiated with in a predictable manner or can be drawn out from whatever place they've holed themselves for sex or money. And with this exposure made they can be dealt with by other 'Problem Solvers'.
"But those people, in my line of profession, who chose to 'retire', generally exhibit no such tangible vices and are motivated to none other but themselves and their continued retirement. That makes them unpredictable and pretty much untouchable by conventional means, it's even worse if they are being beset with a conscience or a shift in morality. Such things would make them unpredictable AND a liability to exposing things to the World Media that we would not want them too. And that, Ms. Possible, is what makes this young man in question a concern to me and a potential problem for United States.
"It is only by his exemplary service to this country to date that I myself have taken the risk of introducing a civilian to addressing this matter of ours. I dearly want to believe my dear that there is an explanation for his silence and that he can still be counted upon by us as a resource. But as I said, it's been a week and thus far we have not received any reassurances from him that he is a man we can still rely upon. And that is where you get involved, Kimberly. I want, no … I need you to draw him out. You are, quite honestly, his last and only hope to survive this maelstrom he has created within the higher ranks. My Superior's are already considering submitting his name to the Grim Reaper, and it's been only through my limited influence that I have bought both him and yourself 72-hours. And seventy-two hours only. I truly wish it were more, but you have earnt a reputation of being able to do anything. And believe me, Kimberly; your reputation will be placed to the ultimate test with this Assignment. Because with this man's training, if he wants to be a ghost and a whisper in the gale, then by God and Thunder he can be just that. He truly is that good."
"Three-days, are you kidding me?! Three-days to track down someone I have never met or know! And who said I would even accept this Mission of yours? The contract I signed was one of guaranteed silence on the nature of these proceedings, not a guarantee of participation."
Mr. Man leaned back in Dr Director's chair and nodded solemnly to her observations and claims. He then arched his finger tips together and bought them close to his chest in contemplation for the words he was going to speak. "You are correct, Ms Possible, three-days isn't an abundance of time. But if anyone could be doing it then I wouldn't be asking you, now would I? To your second statement, when did I ever mention that you did not know this individual? You are perhaps one of the few on this planet who might be able to anticipate, as well as call him in from out of the cold. As to 'Acceptance'? You are correct, you are not obligated to do anything else but remain silent upon exiting this room on the subjects discussed. It is just fortunate that due to your previous standing upon the World Stage during your teenage years that you have already achieved the clearance necessary for us to even have this dialogue and that this 'Approval Level' has not lapsed or been cancelled, otherwise I would not even be boring you with my presence."
Feeling as though she had gained a measured victory in asserting her personal rights, Kim, allowed herself to relax in the chair. "Fine then. Now tell me who is this person you want me to hunt down and why do you think I can do it?"
"Because, Ms Possible, in this case, particularly after a lengthy discussion with Betty here, I firmly believe that you would not WANT to do this, and that the alternative to failure would be one that would be unacceptable to you." After speaking these words the man pulled out a bound folder from the desk draw on his side of the table and opened it. He then removed a photograph of a man and handed it across to the young red-head sitting opposite to him.
Upon accepting of the photograph three things immediately caught her inner-attention. The first was that under normal circumstances she would probably be drooling and crooning over what a 'First-Class-Hottie' he was, if present company had not been present, of coarse.
The second was that the young man in the photo eyes seemed vacant of all warmth and emotion. He instincts told her that this was not because he was devoid of such things, but rather that he could not make any 'connection' to them. That for him to touch any emotion bought to him a misery, so it was therefore easier for him not to even try.
The third and final point was complete un recognition. Mr. Man's words of having a deep understanding of this stranger only now confused her.
"You don't know who he is, do you?" The question started her because it was the first time in years Betty Director had even spoken to her directly, and unlike the last time she did there was now a soft and regretful lithe in her voice. "That man your looking at, he's completely unknown to you, isn't he."
All Kim could do was cautiously nod her head as she placed the photograph once more upon the desk that she had picked it up from. "Should I? Know him, I mean."
The male voice of Mr. Man crossed over to them. "It would be a bad state of affair's if she did. What would have been the point of having minor cosmetic surgery performed if any Tom, Dick and Harriet from his previous life could draw him out of a crowd? The trick is for the surgery not to be extensive, just minor work. Pin the ears back, square the jaw up a notch. A bit of laser work to remove blemishes and the odd small scar and freckle. People who have extreme work done always come out of the procedure looking 'not right' and fake no matter how good the surgeon is. Sometimes it is the small alterations that can make all the difference in the world."
With these collective comments, Kim snatched the High-Definition photograph back and started playing with a mental jigsaw of the image in her mind. Ears …Chin …Freckles. She didn't want to believe it, it was impossible for her to believe except … Yes, if you were to have this 'stranger's' ears pointing out, made his chin more angular and added several faded freckles upon his cheeks … The anger, the fight, the 'Kimness' that had left her so long ago now returned with a vengeance and it was all she could do not to scream out a mixture of obscenities. She leapt across the table that was a barrier between herself and the 'Grandfather' figure she had only moments before been admiring, but by the time her feet became planted on the carpet before him she found her eyes staring down the barrel of a handgun.
In this frozen second of judging her own mortality over vengeance a swarm of GJ Agent's entered the office, much as they had done several years earlier.
"Truly, Betty, you certainly love to make a mountain out of a mole hill, don't you. Ms. Possible has no intentions of doing anything rash, she was just expressing herself. Was it really necessary for you to send out a Duress Signal? She wasn't going to do anything foolish, impulsive maybe, but not foolish. And now the impulse is no present, is it?" As if to emphasize a response from her a very loud click could be heard as he drew the hammer back on his firearm. Kim carefully nodded, not willing to trust herself to speaking words or taking her eyes of a man she now loathed more then any other in her entire life. "See. So why don't all these nice clean cut gentleman wait outside. Ms Possible is far too reasonable a person to try and kill the man who wants to help her get her long awaited 'Golden Goose'."
Without waiting for an order to do so from the Director, the six man squad turned and closed the door. When the sound-seal was once more engaged, Mr. Man, lowered his weapon slightly, still keeping his face locked with the young woman.
Her voice was full of rage, and it pitched and shock as her words made sentences. "That's Ron, isn't it. You had him all this time. What did you do to him? That man's not him – WHAT DID YOU DO?!"
"Your asking the wrong person Ms. Possible, I didn't do anything – You did!!"
"WHAT?!"
Placing his gun on the desk, yet still comfortably in his grasp, Mr. Man rotated his free-hand in annoyance. "Do you honestly believe that your Report on Mr. Stoppable would only have met Betty's eyes alone? We're the CIA, Missy. By the time Bett's hear had gotten into her Office poured herself a cup of Coffee her personal e-mail would have been read by people from Homeland Security, The FBI, Interpol, MI6 as well as us, and she would have been none the wiser to the invasion. Just as her people are doing the exact same thing to leaders of these Organization's as well.
"In a nutshell, Ms Possible, we are in the Spy Trade and whether it is allies or enemies everything comes down to this simple saying – 'Knowledge is Power'. At the time of this interception, the CIA were in the process of organizing a Black Bag Project called 'Treadstone' now it goes by the name - 'Operation Blackbriar'. We coincidently, at that time looking for candidates, acceptable candidates to participate in this very risky conditioning process.
"We were looking for people who were idealistic, with mentally flexible boundaries of morality and necessity to duty. The arrival and formation of your Report was as well timed as it was comprehensive to all we were seeking, Ms Possible. Combat experience, Free-falling, infiltration, offensive snowboarding and climbing, underwater skills, even limited flying ability of a range of aircraft. Added to being a Master of Tai Sheng Pek Kwar, he also had this unnatural ability to never be noticed even when he was standing out in the open for everyone to see.
"Now tell me, Kimberly, if you were in our position and you read a resume of abilities like this, plus a Covering Letter requesting from Betty the desire for Mr. Stoppable to have his ego stroked. All with the aim that he might aspire to things beyond his present station, what would you do? You weren't expecting him to really pass her Recruitment, were you. It would have been a waste of her time, his time and yours. We had a young man eager to prove himself and a young lady who wanted him to. The underlying embarrassment you had for him and how it reflected upon you is not something we even need comment on"
"THAT'S CRAP! RON IS AND WAS MY LIFE!!"
"But you weren't satisfied, were you. You were going places and he was 'stalled'. As I said, we saw him as a resource, one that you all but handed to us. GJ, CIA we both do our selective parts in keeping this planet safe, except where GJ is a glorified Police Force, the CIA are involved in things of significance. It's like comparing a Band-Aid to Open Heart Surgery. He could play in the Minor's or he could swing it with the Big Boy's. It was his choice."
"Is this how you convinced him to become your personal clandestine murderer? You played this sad and tired song to his ego?"
With a seductive smile, Mr. Man shock his head in amusement. "Your report did provide us with a psychological understanding of the subject. And yes, we did use that Model to graft a series of questions that would illicit responses that steered his rational to our way of thinking. But no, Ms Possible, we are no so foolish as to have tabled the concept of turning him into an operative of certain skills right there and then at the initial interview. As I had already said, Blackbriar was a Project designed to recondition the mindset of certain people in order for them to be able to do certain things when it was demanded of them. We just wanted and needed his commitment to the Project, he didn't need to know the ultimate objective of this Project, he just had to stay the coarse. Afterall, if he did then it would have potentially skewed the outcome, and that was something our experts did not want.
"So in order to acquire this co-operation from him on a grand experiment that he was not allowed to know anything about. Our collection of well-paid Shrinks thought that in presenting him with a copy of your Report on him and the accompanying Letter that both would be enough for him to want to do this. For no other reason then because you had stated that you were hoping, quote : for him to gain some direction and ambition in his life – end quote, and that you thought this might help him achieve this.
"So to reiterate, Ms Possible, we didn't do anything to force his participation in the Program. That was all you. And by the time he had finally completed the various processes involved, he was … well, he was no longer who he was but rather who we wanted him to be. End of story."
With tears descending down her cheeks, Kim's expression held firm. She was not going to offer either of these two the satisfaction of seeing her guilt at ruining Ron's life with the memory of her own insecurities and embarrassment at dating an employee of Smarty-Mart when she was attending Oxford University. She lent over and once more picked up Ron's picture, caught in the vacentness of the eyes staring back at her. "If he isn't Ron, my Ron, then who the Hell is he?"
With a shrug, Mr. Man, looked to the sheet in front of him. "It depends. Two-years ago he was Marc Cain, a year before that he was Edward Miller, before that he was David Webb."
This was not the answer she was asking, infact her question was purely rhetorical, yet she couldn't hid her sarcasm and anger at hearing the casualness of Man's voice. "And now?"
"Now? Now he goes by the name, Jason Bourne."
TBC ??
A/N – This is my first Kim Possible Fic, So please be gentle with your critics …lol. It is also a tribute to all those great KP/RS Authors on site, you all know who you are. So what are you doing reading this? Review already ;-)…lol.
