Jonkilin's waiting. I look back at the magazine. I laugh imagining some thick-armed seeing this.


"American Cop. That's me. Killer."

It was a joke. To see tripe sell. No premise, information, point.

"Jeez, guess you have to be a cop to get this shit," complains fat-neck.

Joke's on Jonkilin, sued by his own distributor. I like a joke. But who am I? Question is, "Can you prove it wasn't a joke by starting a whole other joke?" But what if they take Beach Ball Tourister seriously? Hole's dug deeper. Don't do it.

"Do it."