Golgo 13 Posted July 16, 2005 Report Posted July 16, 2005 Some dumb little European sports car zooms down the road, with electronica or some shit blaring from the speakers. Its occupants being some European bastard who smells of cheese, and Manson who smells of stale liquor. Manson asks for a cellphone and the European hesitantly obliges, only cringing as Manson dials a ridiculously long number. "Hello?" says the faint, but familiar voice of Arch Griffon. "Where the fuck are you?!" "The US." "The fuck?! Why?" "Got into a fight. Flesher said it was to 'avoid incident.'" "I didn't know... Everytime I asked that bastard, or Peters, or whoever is in charge, they didn't say shit!" "They just told me to get on a plane and my stuff would get here eventually. They were probably scared of how you'd..." "Fuck!" "...react..." "But you're gonna get it worked out soon, right?" "...they said they're currently re-evaluating my contract as a res--" "FUCK!!" screams Manson, throwing the cellphone out the window. The car comes to a screeching halt and Manson comically stumbles out on the roadside moments later, before walking into the sunset with a tear dripping down his cheek as he sticks out his thumb once more. Fin. ---------- That's where he is, so there.
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