Agent Dallape was a sniper and a damn good one. A few tours in the middle east saw him with more medals and service awards than he knew what to do with, and a body count that lengthened the queue on that cloud-strewn path leading to the pearly gates. He hefted his rifle for the fifth time. It felt wrong to him somehow, dead. An instrument without consequence, no killing-weight to it. “Non-lethal bullshit..” He muttered under his breath and his earpiece crackled to life, “Come again? —Over.” Asked a voice, “just let me dome the guy.” Dallape growled. “Why all the tip-toeing around, you want him dead don't you?” “Impaired,” said the voice ,“ and it’s not your job to think, just do —Over.” Dallape cursed and in the window of the condemned apartment building, that held an excellent view into the frontside of a certain grocery store, he mounted the rifle against a window frame, closed one eye and trained the other through the rifle's scope. Through the scope the world's edges became darker, but its center clearer, more focused and like a spotlight searching, the clear center snapped to each human shape until it rested on the target, Jack Allison. Dallape knew the score: wing the unlucky bastard with a non-lethal tranq dart that was packed full of that new virus going around, fire as soon as Jack exited through the grocery store’s front doors and escape unseen, easy as pie. For a while Dallape patiently followed him through his scope until Jack did something unexpected, “Jesus Christ!” Dallape hissed. He couldn’t believe his eyes. He stared in horror as Jack picked up an unwashed leaf of spinach, put it to his lips and started…eating it. Just like that. This fucking psycho better not get himself sick, Dallape thought, that was his job. Two full travel days with no rest, a late dead drop and shitty motel wifi made this one of the worst contracts he’s ever been on, and so help him god if all of this had been for nothing he’d go crazy, he was damn sure of it. “Oh for the love of..don’t—!” Dallape shouted but it was too late. He watched helplessly as Jack popped a couple of grapes into his mouth from a fruit table nearby. The table had a sign taped to it that read: “New! Freshly imported and unwashed Italian grapes!” This fucking moron...Dallape massaged his temples. He couldn’t think negative, that was for quitters, maybe the virus wouldn't catch, maybe he still had a chance to— He broke his train of thought, a runny-nosed kid with a jawbreaker in his mouth had just walked past Jack. On the kids way by him he sneezed, the jawbreaker plopped out of his mouth and rolled to one of Jack’s becrocked feet. “Uh-uh.” Dallape said shaking his head, “nope.” Jack paused. “No.” Jack looked to his left. “You mother—” Jack looked right and Dallape started to sweat.”Don’t you—” Jack bent down and— “FUCK!”

Todays Topics Include: Dirty Spinach, SuperHyper Normalization, Global Pandmeic, Sarah Palin and Badlandschugs!

VOD: https://www.twitch.tv/videos/565949095