I sat at my desk, scanning through potential assignments. Nothing interested me anymore, and I certainly hadn’t had a target that had excited me in a long time. Then I saw the name: quacky. I knew quacky! In fact, I rather – liked- quacky; he was a quirky kind of guy. But, you know, business is business, and what the hell kind of assassin are you if you won’t even kill your friends?

I waited for quacky before our class together, and once more I experienced the rush right before a kill. He walked in and headed towards me. His hand was in his pocket (getting his iPod and NOT his gun, I later learned). I pulled my six shooter from beneath my jacket, aimed, and shot him dead in the chest.

Quacky looked down at where I’d shot him in disbelief. His last words were, “Oh man, are you serious?”