I fumbled and dropped my last remaining clip.

I fumbled and dropped my last remaining clip. I'd never been good at reloading in a hurry, and the growing stench of piss was only making me more nervous - particularly due to

the fact that I had been drinking straight ammonia for the last five days. Did you know they used to distill ammonia from cat urine? The guys shooting at me didn't know that. They

preferred to clean their floors with a bleach solution. None of us realized that when bleach and ammonia mix, it forms Chlorine Gas. Everyone began choking. I thought

it was not your fault but mine and it was your life on the line. I really fucked it up this time. Didn't I, my dear? Didn't I, my dear? 7 people were dead, but the floor WAS clean.

And it was all thanks to Mumford & Son's carpet cleaning services. Whenever people said of their name, "Hey, like the band," they didn't get it. But despite being out of the know,

they say "I was just about to call you." and the landline gets hit by lightning, or you're just thinking about the band U2 and Bono hits you with his limo, coincidences like that.

They always had excuses, but I knew that's all they were. Excuses. Excuses that filled me with loneliness. All I wanted was some sort of response. Some kind of human contact.

Contact lens that is. I wanted one lens to put in my bellybutton and then when I squeezed my fat it

would pop out really far. With training I could get a hard contact lens firing faster than a bullet from a gun. I was going to serve me country after all.