But before Rock could get the chance Manila's man enveloped his position and Rock only escaped by slipping into a powder blue and pink cocktail dress and slinking out of town with a band of disgruntled waitresses. Oh, the horror.
And though Rock only escaped by the skin of his tutu, many good men did not return that day and the United States Government held an inquiry to determine what had gone wrong. Mistakes had been made, blame must be placed. Rock's brilliant career pirouetted to a halt.
Rock had only managed to get through those dark days because of the unconditional support of his brother, who encouraged him to take his God given talents and put them to good use. He began a second career, professional hit man.
Rock preferred to just not think about it. But each time he saw the colors powder blue and pink his palms began to sweat, his testosterone level dropped, and his sphincter tightened.
And now his brother needed him. Failure was not an option. Rock's chest rose and fell tumultuously as he picked up his cell and punched in the number. "Salmon," he said into the phone.
"What?" said Francis.
"Salmon," said Rock. "Not pink, salmon."
"Sure," said Francis.
"Good," said Rock and hung up. His breathing became more regular. He picked the letter up off the bathroom floor and walked into the living room.
