A man in his late twenties with a thin, unimpressive beard notices you approaching. He…

"That's right. If there's one thing I know about myself it's that I'm a total, raging feminist."

"Is that so? Mr. Feminist..." He catches the rest before it leaves his mouth, probably thinking it's best not to say anything.

You've gained a Thought! When this dialogue is over, go to your THOUGHT CABINET and INTERNALIZE it for special bonuses and effects.

"Do you have a phallus in your ear? I said I'm a feminist."

"That's good. But there is a timetable for this investigation, dictated to us by the stages of decomposition. And it says we need to move on."

"I'm not a feminist, I just wanted to see the look on your face."

"What are you, a chauvinist then? Hah!"

He smiles until he realizes his comeback wasn't very good. Then he frowns again.

"You heard me."

"Mystery solved!"

"Is it? Because I thought you were supposed to be investigating the lynching, not my employer conduct."

"She went away because none of your business."

Have they not been telling you you're a cop?

"This is the second time you've avoided the subject."

"Oh my god! What is your obsession with this Sylvie person? Get over it!"

Maybe it's he who's obsessed with "this Sylvie person"? Certainly sounds like it.

"She pertains to the coming apocalypse."

"Does she? Maybe she does... maybe she pertains to the apocalypse." He snorts. "Sylvie is not here because I asked for her number. The dead body out back didn't help either, but it was mostly me. I hope you appreciate that..."

"Fine."

"Extra fine."

"Am I not a cop? Everything is my business."

"You know, I actually can't think of a single thing."

"I knew it."

"What is your problem with me?"

"Why would I have a problem with you? You're a hero cop."

"So not only am I a cop, but I'm also a hero?"

"Yes, you are!" He looks at you with mock admiration. "A real decorated hero."

"What did I do?"

"What did you not do? First you took the body down, then you solved the murder, then you didn't trash my hostel room. Maybe you even negotiated the strike?"

"Oh my god, I did all those things?"

"No -- you see -- actually you didn't. You haven't done anything even remotely useful since you got here."

"What have I been doing then? Have you seen me around?"

"No, I haven't seen you around. I just got here, remember?" He looks at you, then at the lieutenant. "Was there anything else?"

"I'm guessing I didn't do any of those things?"

"You're right, you didn't. And it's only taken you three days not to."

"What have I been doing all that time? Have you seen me around?"

"I do not appreciate your tone. This is no way to talk to an officer."

"Oh, it's not?!" He raises his shoulders like he's about to say something more, but then gets a hold of himself.

"You're right. It's not."

He has no respect for you personally, but this man sees himself as a law-abiding citizen -- and you a representative of that law.

"You're being sarcastic."

"Am I? Or did you ride in, take the body down, solve the murder, and not trash my hostel room?"

"Do you have a fridge?"

"What?!"

"Khm..." The lieutenant coughs in your direction. "Not now."

Now is not a good time to ask him about the corpse-fridge.

"Who killed him?"

"I don't know who killed him, I'm not the police. That's your job."

This is it! He said they hoisted him up on a tree -- who is this they if he doesn't know?

"I have another question."

The lieutenant turns the page in the little notebook he's been scribbling in.

"Did you kill him?"

"What are you -- crazy? Of course I didn't kill him."

Suddenly you tense up, blood is being pushed to your muscles. You should hound him on this, hound him hard, the prey drive says.

"Okay, I'm not gonna hound you on this."

"Oh, thank you."

"Did you kill him, Garte?"

"No, I didn't."

"You can tell me, Garte. You killed him, right?"

"I didn't." He turns to the lieutenant: "I don't appreciate this. What is this?"