Night/Humid/Fan/SSP's bedroom in a flat somewhere in the North
Sunny, by name and not by nature.
A Raffles Place Fuck-Up, that's what they called him. Never fuck around with Sunny or he would have you impaled with a punji stake. An introverted psychopath, nobody messed with Sunny. Or so he thought.
Yesterday morning, Sunny had to put a bullet through his head. That dog-fucked sonofabitch. He had it coming. 15-hour shifts, 7 days' week, and a fuck-up appraisal. A bloody dog life in a nutshell.
But I did right. Worked him hard and gave him shit. Sunny had to go. He didn't belong.
shit stain panties
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