Conversation · Trash Container

The trash container stands in the spring snow.

"How do we get the lock open?"

"We could try using a prybar -- the one you took from my motor carriage. Or..."

Did someone say prybar?!

Fuck yeah! Prybar!

Prybar, prybar, your palms yearn it's cold touch. To grasp it once more, as you've done so many times...

"No or. Prybar!"

"We might want to ask for a key from the manager of the Whirling-in-Rags. He probably has one. And he also has information."

Ask the manager? Bullshit! Go straight for the prybar and pry this baby wide open!

"Or, lieutenant?"

"Or we could ask for a key from the manager of the Whirling-in-Rags. He probably has one."

He might also have information -- this is better than the prybar idea.

What's a prybar?

Prybar, crowbar, leverage displacement tool of the gods. Your hands have held its paint-flaked metal one hundred thousand times.

Forget about the prybar.

Forget about it? Like you forgot about your life? No! You cannot forget your own body, and your body cannot forget...

THE PRYBAR!

It's not a prybar, it's a crowbar.

Really? Your muscles are down with either one.

"We could try using a prybar -- there's one in my motor carriage. Or..."

Why am I looking at you, trash container? You're just a trash container.

Well it is a container. Maybe you're prioritizing it?

Keep the hunch to yourself.

The lieutenant leans in to inspect the lock.

"Lieutenant, what do you think could be in there?"

"Trash? Food waste from the cafeteria? They lock these containers to keep the derelicts from flocking in. Could be evidence too."

"Yes, I feel like there's something in there."

"What do you mean feel?"

"It's just a hunch. Maybe someone threw something in there?"

"Mhm." He leans in to inspect the lock.

"Nothing."

"It's extrasensory perception. Whatever is in there holds a special significance."

"I agree. We should get someone from the Remote Viewers Division here."

He's being sarcastic. Do not ask what the Remote Viewers Division is.

"What is the Remote Viewers Division?"

"All the detectives from all the Precincts who experience extrasensory perception go to the Remote Viewers Division. Their work is invaluable to the force."

It's remarkable how he can keep a straight face. Take note -- the lieutenant is well versed in dead-panning. Many of the things he says could be meant in jest.

"What kind of extra-natural abilities do they possess?"

"None. Because they don't exist."

"I'm so disappointed right now. I thought there was a Remote Viewers Division."

"There isn't -- but we should still access this container."

"Oh. Okay."

"We should still access this container. There may be evidence in there."

"There is no Remote Viewers Division, is there?"

"There isn't."

"Wow! Could we get them here?"

"No, because they don't exist."

Say nothing.

"There is no need for sarcasm. I just feel strongly about it, that's all. Maybe it's not connected to the case, but still."

"Oh." He pauses. "It might also be evidence. The mob could have disposed of something in there. We should get it open."

"Then we should open it immediately!"

"Seems like a reasonable assumption."

I should get you open, trash container.

The lock says Whirling-in-Rags. Maybe the proprietor has the key? Who knows what secrets wait inside...

Beware. They're very painful secrets.

The lock says Whirling-in-Rags. Maybe the proprietor has the key? Who knows what secrets wait inside...

Just a trash container? There is no such thing.

Your fingers start to itch just looking at that padlock...

The body is downwind from here. Maybe you prefer the smell of garbage to the smell of death?

[Leave.]