He was old, headstrong and yet, just like a c***d, because he loved to play and wouldn't let anybody tell him what to do. Not the Doctors or Mama Kate...or Ilsa. But for some reason, he would sometimes argue with me. That was amazing since if he didn't agree with someone, he'd just tell them no and do what he wanted. He'd still do it his way, but it was like he would even bother to test me to see if I could hang. He outright ignored one son-in-law and the other didn't come around much anymore. So. There, just next to the vivacious blonde in the green dress, was his mark. He could, fuck, he would have her without a thought, but for them them to be next to one another was sheer fortune. The man was perfect! No more than five foot seven with shoulder's stooped by hours of soul-crushing office labor. The mark's dishwater blonde hair hung in lank waves over his skull. His eyes held the sunken look of an office flunky but there, just barely, had the snap, the fire of one last good throw down.. More

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