Below is a form. You should fill it out.
Sid pushed the goggles across the bar. They were wholly unremarkable. The same cheap AR rigs that you could get in any pawnshop on any street. Too old for WALMART or BEST BUY. New enough to be jitter-free and generally functional. Pre the decrypt laws, Jan figured.
What will happen when you fill out the form? The form doesn't say. It is a mystery.
"These are them?" she asked.
"These are them," Sid said.
We promise that whatever it is, it will happen less than once a month.
"You put these on, you run the program, you pay me what you owe plus interest, probably walk away with a bit more for yourself. Everyone's square, everyone's happy, and you get to keep your fucking kneecaps."
He smiled broadly. It was meant to look magnanimous but to Jan it just looked like a skull.
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