Part 3: The Fuck Off

This place was much colder than the ride over, and at this point in the game, I had become used to the position that my arms were placed. The air smelled of old offices and paper clips. In the room sat a single, up-right chair that I was attached to. I could her voices from the hallway laughing and talking about how screwed I was and all I could think about is how I wasn’t going to give these pigs a single thing. Suddenly, the door opened and in walked the man that pulled me over in the white car. As he stepped towards me, I could here the splashes of sweat dripping from his face onto the floor. This only led me to wonder if he was doing laps from the excitement of a great bust or if he was just frightened to think of the gun collection found in my house. “ You do realize what kind of time your going to be doing if you don’t help us out right? Just tell us who you were taking it too and getting it from, and we’ll let you drive right out of here.” Although, I couldn’t believe what I was hearing, the thought of working for the police and helping them bring down my friends was the last thing on my mind. As I sat in the cold, uncomfortable seat, all I could think about was the fact that they had no clue where the safe house was, which happened to contain many more pounds of the leafy substance they obtained from the trunk of my car. I looked at the man in a great deal of respect, and then told him to fuck off.