Hanken was tired and lethargic after his long journey to the coast. He had rescued maidens, maids and madmen. He figured sleeping would be his reward for his recent good behaviour. So, he napped and napped. When he was done napping he napped some more.
After all this napping, he was rejuvenated. It was time to start working on diffusing the bomb he had in his suitcase. He pulled out his tweezers and his rubber gloves. Hanken started working away and after a few vials of sweat beads trickled off his head, he was once again in the clear.
Now, to fill out the report. He always felt it was good business to document his endeavours. Lest anyone think he was a fool and a teller of tall tales, he would at least know that he had written it down in his ledger. He wrote and he wrote making sure to remember the angle he left the gangster in the trashcan at the airport.
He found that leaving details out was always a mistake. The kinds of villains he was working with had curious tattoos and spoke in funny dialects. These things would be important later on when deciphering who this was. After putting the finishing touches on the woman with the full lips and boisterous laugh, he put down his ledger and began to contemplate his next move.
Where would the next attack come from? Where are the armies amassing? And, where can he get a clean shirt in this pile of clothes scattered all over the floor?
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