Note: This Dispatch should be read in an American accent
It wasn’t supposed to end this way was it, Keys? We were comfortable, secure – on a one-way ticket to easy retirement with a view to sipping on pina coladas on the Copacabana in three years time where the girls are brown but golden to the touch. So much for forward planning, huh? They don’t amount to a hill of beans when you don’t reckon for a twist of cruel fate’s gnarled hand and a moment of careless madness. And who’d have thought we’d be here now? Without friends and without hope, drifting towards the boulevard of broken dreams, just a side-street away from Palookaville. We were careless, lazy, some might say we’d played our hand and lost. It’s a tough game we play and there’ll always be losers. We hadn’t reckoned for a dame though and that was the point…
It started out a day, like any other. You and I were doing our regular number, calling the shots on the box for our boss, The Fox who was out of town taking care of business Stateside. Although, we were low down in the chain of command, he could trust us to man his operation from the front. He had bigger fish to fry that week.
