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From: Sgt. Karrin Murphy <kmurphy@si.chicagopd.com>
To: Thomas Raith <godofcologne@livejournal.com>
Subject: Updates from the front; also, Harry needs you
Thomas,
Stallings wants me to thank you for helping him win the office betting pool, though he says he feels sorry for security at that mall you went to. Must have made them go blind with that stunt in the store. Not much more news in Chicago. I'm sure your employees are keeping you updated. I swear they play the same 10 songs all day in your salon; no matter when I drop by they're always the same.
Just a warning, Harry gave me a letter to send you, figuring it would be faster than if he tried to mail it. I've typed it up and attached it. Can't say I blame him; you need to slow down. But just a warning, the lights in the office flickered and the copier died a noisy, toner-spewing death when Harry came by to drop off the letter.
Take care, and don't hurt anyone,
Karrin
Attachment:
Thomas -
Hell's freakin' bells, what are you doing?! I'm not talking about becoming That Guy in reality TV shows (or at least that's what your employees are telling me you are), the one who sits around all day shirtless and drinking. I'm talking about the feeding. Just because they're vampires doesn't mean it's get out of jail free for you, idiot. You feed on them, they kill more people because of you. Hell's bells. And that's not even mentioning the fact that you're letting them feed on you.
You KNOW what the Red Court's venom does. You get addicted, and you get stupid. And don't even get me started on the Black Court's chewing habits. Hell's holy stars and freaking stones shit bells, Thomas. Have you completely lost your mind?! You're letting other vampires, blood sucking vampires, feed from you. They're stronger than you, they're faster. I don't care if you've got them half out of their minds wanting into your pants, Thomas, this is such a bad idea. In fact, just get your white court ass back to Chicago.
I was going to say something about Drusilla, but I don't even have the words. Hell's bells. I am NOT coming up there to rescue you if you decided to turn yourself into a Renfield or a blood bag or anything of the sort. You hear me? I AM NOT COMING TO RESCUE YOU.
And if you die, I get your car.
Harry
To: Thomas Raith <godofcologne@livejournal.com>
Subject: Updates from the front; also, Harry needs you
Thomas,
Stallings wants me to thank you for helping him win the office betting pool, though he says he feels sorry for security at that mall you went to. Must have made them go blind with that stunt in the store. Not much more news in Chicago. I'm sure your employees are keeping you updated. I swear they play the same 10 songs all day in your salon; no matter when I drop by they're always the same.
Just a warning, Harry gave me a letter to send you, figuring it would be faster than if he tried to mail it. I've typed it up and attached it. Can't say I blame him; you need to slow down. But just a warning, the lights in the office flickered and the copier died a noisy, toner-spewing death when Harry came by to drop off the letter.
Take care, and don't hurt anyone,
Karrin
Attachment:
Thomas -
Hell's freakin' bells, what are you doing?! I'm not talking about becoming That Guy in reality TV shows (or at least that's what your employees are telling me you are), the one who sits around all day shirtless and drinking. I'm talking about the feeding. Just because they're vampires doesn't mean it's get out of jail free for you, idiot. You feed on them, they kill more people because of you. Hell's bells. And that's not even mentioning the fact that you're letting them feed on you.
You KNOW what the Red Court's venom does. You get addicted, and you get stupid. And don't even get me started on the Black Court's chewing habits. Hell's holy stars and freaking stones shit bells, Thomas. Have you completely lost your mind?! You're letting other vampires, blood sucking vampires, feed from you. They're stronger than you, they're faster. I don't care if you've got them half out of their minds wanting into your pants, Thomas, this is such a bad idea. In fact, just get your white court ass back to Chicago.
I was going to say something about Drusilla, but I don't even have the words. Hell's bells. I am NOT coming up there to rescue you if you decided to turn yourself into a Renfield or a blood bag or anything of the sort. You hear me? I AM NOT COMING TO RESCUE YOU.
And if you die, I get your car.
Harry
