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“Okay,” you start, “Ima tell you a story that you want to hear. Once upon a time there was this very handsome, very smart, very respectable, very—”

“We get it,” says the cop with the backpack, “You’re a stand-up guy.”

“So, there was this guy; a courier for the CN, and on his way home from school three really fucking—”

“I’m not liking this story,” says the second cop.

“Three really fucking NICE policemen see that he fell down and they help him up. As a show of gratitude, he offers them some of his snacks. Are we still on the record?”

“Snacks are usually 1%, that aint much, KK,” says the cop holding the bag.

“You’re telling me!” You say as you sit up and slowly stand with your hands raised; “It’s insane what a guy has to do to get a little relief. But, this Black Water is the finest, even a micro will send you deep down into happy town.”

“Six ampules.”

“Six! That’s like 12% I’d have to cover that, and you know I aint got creds or I wouldn’t be doing this in the first place! I can afford three and let me tell you that’s a steal.”

The two cops look back and forth to one another, the third still quiet. You are on your feet and their guard is down.  You don’t have the backpack, but you could get away. If you tell the CN that the cops stole it, they might not kill you. 

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