Gary asked me where we were going. I told him nothing had changed. Our mission was to find the veterinarian and determine if he’s a blood mage. Or a vampire. Or “just” a murderer. When he asked what we were going to do after we did find out, I wanted to tell him to shut up. Instead I told him we’d figure something out.
He suggested instead of skulking around a slaughterhouse that I just use my finding spell. I guess that’s a good sign, he’s at least engaged somewhat. I needed time to think and I was hungry so we stopped at a burger joint.
While I was eating, I noticed a leg in my sandwich. Part of a leg I mean. I probably already ate the other part. Cricket maybe. But it was grey. When something like that happens, whose fault is it? The kid working the fryer? The other kid who opened the box of frozen patties? The purchasing agent that bought the meat? The guy who sold it? The guy at the packing plant that wrapped it up? The government for not spending more money on FDA inspections? Voters for demanding lower taxes so the government doesn’t have money for enforcement? Everyone everywhere for demanding lower prices that encourage companies to cut corners?
If paying money to ingest insect parts is something I can’t figure out, how can I figure anything out? I never used to feel dumb. I was too busy trying not to starve to death or get stabbed. Now I feel dumb most of the time. I never know what to do.
Gary’s a college-educated fancy business boy, why doesn’t he know anything? I asked him what he would have done about this “vampire” back in the old days and he said would have used his magic and rich friends to ruin the guy’s life and wait for him to kill himself.
When I asked him what he would do if the guy also had magic and could fight back, he said “In that case I wouldn’t mess with him”. He explained that the key to getting ahead in life is attacking people that can’t fight back.
That’s probably true but not very helpful.
Rocket Cat 