Business as Usual Part I

Did you miss me?

Of course you didn't, and I didn't miss you. If truth be told, I could go my whole life never writing another word on this blog, and it wouldn't bother me in the slightest. It probably wouldn't bother any of you, either, if I never showed up to write a single word more on the subject of Jessica Carter. But unfortunately, Jessica Carter would most certainly be bothered if I never wrote another word about her.

Don't get me wrong. She's not vain, or proud, or egotistical. Not the way normal people are. Jessica is...she's the id. You kids know what the id is, right? That primal side of the psyche, manifesting through subconscious, against the will of it's host body...? Nah, you probably haven't got a fucking clue what I'm talking about. But trust me, that's Jess. She's The Joker without a Batman. She does things, because they come into her head. So when she has a thought, it's almost as though she can't help but perceive it to be true, because for her the distinction between reality and her mind is nonexistent. 

Funny enough, this is also why she makes such an effective boss.

The dinner meet-up with Michael went about as well as I could have hoped for. Jessica played nice, we got ahold of Michael's resources as part of our operation, and afterwards I managed to procure the dinner Jessica actually wanted for her.

Yikes.

No, see, the reason you haven't heard from me in a week is because Ms. Carter decided she wanted to celebrate a certain holiday as only she could last Friday. We spent the evening going out on what she lovingly referred to as a "date", but she insisted that there was nothing between the two of us. Which there isn't. And it wasn't like any date I'd have ever gone on if I had any choice in the matter at all. But I didn't. Ah well.

Jessica has a way about her, I'll admit...but I'm not one to romanticize this stuff. She spent the night killing and eating her way across half of New York, and mentioned that her rampage was intended as 'a most loving letter to one still living, out there in the world somewhere, his heart all to pieces.' Her words, I shit you not. She can be surprisingly eloquent when she wants to be. Hell, she's trilingual, if you can believe it!

After that, she had me make some arrangements for travel, and I spent the better part of this week cleaning up as best I could in the wake of her murder spree. I suspect that her serial rampage has put her on the cops' radar once again, though. Not that they won't know who it is. They always do.

So that's why you haven't heard from me, and that's also why Part II of this post is going to go up tomorrow night.  Part II is going to be that next entry in Bradley's journal I promised last week. For real this time. I swear.

-Mr. Flint