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May 30, 2007

5.30.07

Select any story you've previously posted here and retell it from the other guy's perspective.

I recognize that this leaves first-time commenters out in the cold. In such cases, use your favorite book or other published work. Or go back to a previous day, write something for that, then come back here and do this.

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David: White vs. Black

How is that infuriating man still alive? Granted, he’s good at his job, but so am I, and I’m not getting paid to admire his skill. I’ve got secrets to steal and world leaders to assassinate. But he’s there every time, acting like it’s all one big game we’re playing against each other.

Doesn’t he understand that the existence and well-being of my entire nation depends on my efforts? Without me, stronger nations, including his, would steamroll over us without a second thought. I’m a patriot. I don’t enjoy what I do; I do it because it is necessary.

Bastard.

Related to yesterday.

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Jeff R.: Clever and Classless and Free

The Copper Syndicate bastard wore a smug look, meaning that he thought he owned the police union, or at least had rented them. He was probably right about that, too. Our teamsters alone couldn't stand up to a police assault, true, but it's not like they'd be alone. Everybody needs coal, and everybody needs stuff hauled. Everybody including the Magnificant People's Anachro-Syndicalist Republican Army, so our boys would be packing some serious hardware: field artillery, man-portable rocket launchers, even a few tanks back in the trucks. If Copper wanted a fair contract, fine. If they wanted a fight, even better...

See also: Something to Be

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Jim: Caribbe

Hair-beads clacking rhythmically, Mama Shandee shook her head as she watched the horrible little man leave into the night with his ‘pet’.

Watching that poor girl die had turned her stomach but working the voodoo to bring back the girl chilled Mama’s bones to the marrow. But now the debt was paid and never again could the little man tell Mama what to do.

She had only had a few moments alone to teach the zombie to kill the little man. Maybe those moments had been enough.

Mama spat after the little man and closed her door against the darkness.

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