‘Just one.’ I waited. And waited a bit more. She responded with one keystroke. ‘?’ And as taxis honked far below my apartment window, their ta...llights twinkling red in the rain, I decided to type it all out. ‘Mr. Super FixIt Man was in a car accident twenty years ago, in a little country with bad medical facilities. They confused him with Humpty Dumpty and didn’t exactly put all the pieces back the right way. He’s got a nasty jagged scar that runs down his stomach, a broken shoulder that never. Typical barroom chair, no armrests, little padding, upright back, it was like corporal punishment, and he shifted endlessly as the conversation wore on. It began to get late and one of his friends, not known for his drinking prowess, was soon slumped in his seat, eyes glazed, and he knew it would not be long until he was snoring face down on the table. His other friend had gone to get the drinks a few minutes ago and seemed to be taking his time. He stood up to look for him, and spotted him. More

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