The bastard, sitting there with his Cheshire cat grin. Always looks so happy to see me. He would be. What can I say; the man has a streak of sadism a mile wide. I suppose he enjoys watching people squirm. I try not to squirm.
It's very, very hard.
"Good morning, Reverend!" he says, putting malice into the cheerful tones. The man could melt ice with that voice. Really, it was almost pathetic; I can never look at him without thinking of what a waste he is. I'm sure he's got talents other than the infliction of misery, right?
"Good morning, Crescendo." The grin vanishes; oh, look, there it is. I seem to have wiped it off his face and onto my own. They say it's a bad idea to bait sharks, but I honestly doubt the Boss-man will let him take me down, no matter how much he wants to.
I'm just too valuable, the spy in the enemy camp.
Jesus, what have I gotten myself into?
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