Who'd Win in a Death-Match: Shirk the Drug-snuffling Demon or The Bloody Chick at the bottom of this page ...

The police and in-house consul made it clear that I was not to say, just that there is now an ongoing investigation.” He looked closely at Westphal. “They also suggested that you be monitored closely.” Oh, fat-ass, did you just make the list! “What the fuck does that mean?” Westphal asked, incredulously. “What did I just tell you about that kind of language?” “Just tell me what the hell is going on here, Mr. Whistlebottom.” Westphal demanded, thoroughly red-faced and getting loud. “I suggest you come clean.” Mr. Whistlebottom was dumbfounded and his own faced darkened. It was with a considerable dose of effort that he kept his cool, Westphal could tell. He almost felt sorry for the paper-pushing fat fuck.