She pats him on the cheek; it's awfully close to a slap.
"We're not even going to address your obvious death wish--did you not see Larson's autopsy photos? Because I can go get them...My point is this.
When you've got your motor skills back, which should be--"
She glances at the clock.
"--ten minutes, give or take, you're going to go back to your supervisor and tell him you're not feeling well. You're going home, and you're not coming back. They can mail you your last check, which will go to your new address that won't be inside the Gotham City limits.
Also, you're going to pick something that isn't guarding mental patients as your new vocation, or your future supervisor is getting a copy of those security tapes in the mail. You should probably just focus on something with a minimum of human interaction instead. It'll save us both a lot of trouble.
This is your life, you stupid son of a bitch, and it's my gift to you. Don't make me regret it."
no subject
She pats him on the cheek; it's awfully close to a slap.
"We're not even going to address your obvious death wish--did you not see Larson's autopsy photos? Because I can go get them...My point is this.
When you've got your motor skills back, which should be--"
She glances at the clock.
"--ten minutes, give or take, you're going to go back to your supervisor and tell him you're not feeling well. You're going home, and you're not coming back. They can mail you your last check, which will go to your new address that won't be inside the Gotham City limits.
Also, you're going to pick something that isn't guarding mental patients as your new vocation, or your future supervisor is getting a copy of those security tapes in the mail. You should probably just focus on something with a minimum of human interaction instead. It'll save us both a lot of trouble.
This is your life, you stupid son of a bitch, and it's my gift to you. Don't make me regret it."