The Pepper Lake Seven *S.

Chapter 1: How To File A Complaint

Iampri’dem, that is to say, a very long time ago in a land we shall
call Pepper Lake……
They told me to go to internal affairs directly; I was told there
that my case was under Board Investigation by a Civilian Review Committee.
This, of course took place at the City and County Building.
I anticipated being followed when I left the building, so I had my best
muscle men discretely waiting outside.
Suddenly a european-looking old man with dark sunglasses, dressed in an expensive
black suit, approached me.
He reached into his coat pocket for what I can only assume
was a phone, key, or GUN. Either way, he never reached whatever it was because my
thug, Bare Knuckle Ben had him by the arms at a moments notice.
My pre-arranged taxi cab was there and the door was open; my friend Jason S.
beckoned me into the back seat of the yellow car.
“Did all go well?” he asked me.
I ignored him at first and told the cabbie to take us to ninth and ninth, and to
to step on it for dickens’sake. I gave him a crumpled hundred dollar bill.
“Yes-sir!” he said in an east Indian accent.
We were off.
As long as the cab driver was in it for the money, and by his driving speed
I could tell that he was, we were safe.
I had escaped.
My thug’s Bare-Knuckle-Ben and his associate, the ever deadly, Can-Fist-Clay
were busy beating down the ruffians that were ordered to follow us.
Who could I trust?

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