Double tap.

Audits are a pain in the ass. The only time where everybody gets together creating a whole web of lies. Everything hidden away. Some went a step further by even taking files and hid them in their car. Perhaps having standards meaning having no truth either.


In my next job -- if I ever change -- I will make it a point to not walk in a organization that practise ISO standards.


Every single person have their dream job. People list down in a crumpled note stating the favourite 5 dream job. I have a few too.


One being a bartender. Cocooned inside a surrounding bar. Every single person there wants to know you. They want to get acquainted to you, in a hope to get more generous amount of alcohol in their drink. Strangers sit at the bar, at times, telling you their darkest secret of their life. You can create your own string of cocktails and pretend that you are one half of the Cocktail Kings. You can be the cock talk of the town.


The other dream job of mine is being an assassin. Cold, cruel, precise and efficient. Double tap to the sternum and one through the center of the forehead. Sharp steel pokes right through the medula oblangata leaving all the nerve system dead before you can even feel the pain. A bullet through it would do the same effect. No identity. Different names. Different places. Different skills.


A stealth killing machine. You need no one else in this world. The only price to know my identity would be death.


I better stop dreaming.