Chief Grant tossed a manilla record printed matter onto my desk, pungent cigar fume pouring from his mouth as he walked by. His brightly colored suspenders contrasted his gruff, thick showing and disturbed brow. The rambling muddle of credentials spilled out of the printed matter similar to blood in to my hands, and the face of Max Payne filled my vision.
"But Chief," we said. "Our readers have already seen this Max Payne 3 trailer."
Chief Grant stopped deceased in his tracks, similar to a deceased thing. He took the cigar from his mouth and looked at me with his cold, routine eyes.
"Not similar to this," he said.
As we sat back down at my desk, the evening's orange heat embellished shadows by the blinds. In the distance, a few other movie noir things happened.
No comments:
Post a Comment