Not knowing how my foes looked like, I decided to stay outside the hotel, looking for anyone suspicious. I studied the faces walking in and out of the hotel, to me they all looked guilty. Two-bit punks and small-time gangsters splitting their loot and sometimes eachother. Aging, married politicans arriving at night in taxis with fancy whores. I regretted not being a postman, as I could have earned a fortune delivering blackmails. At the same time, I knew this was no time for me to go postal, so I stuck to where I belonged - my post.

The clock was ticking, but time was taking me nowhere. The only reason I had not fallen asleep standing was balance - that of my bank account. Though my boss gladly signs my expense reports, this was not a true case, and the thought of paying out of my pockets left me scared that I would end off not even having pants.

To my pleasent surpise, my boredom was interupted by something potentially less boring, "Nobody move!". I decided that for the occasion, I was nobody, so I moved. In one motion, I pulled my gun, turned round and sat down on my knees with the gun towards whatever was behind me, a car. Standing still. Without a driver. Realizing that this might not be a duel, though the odds were in my favour, I pulled my gun back, and went to find the source of the two words who had so rudely interupted my nothing and made me take on the role of nobody for no apperant reason at all.

I walked slowly towards the car, my hand firmly around my pistol. "Do you wanna talk or were those your last words?" I tried, hoping that there were some sense left in this situation. "If it's words you want you can have 'em for free, keep your bullets." Jaap Future stood up behind the car and met my stare. "Oh, I got enough of bullets, but I won't force 'em on you without an invitation." So we talked.

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