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garrattj

Cobourg

Member Since 2010

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Sunday Nov 06, 2011

Nov 6, 2011
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Five-Minute fiction - 22:56-23:01

They called themselves Brics and Morter and they were some of the best in the business.Stolid, reliable, dependable, all the bles you could ever need. Good with guns, grenades, and gab. Add to all of that the fact that they were English, precommunion English, and it made for quite a roisterous packaged.

The clinking of glassware filled the tiny space above the warehouses main floor that had been serving as a staging point. Wrecker, head on hands, was asleep at the table, while Bricks was regaling Sharpe with his stint in the English Convict Army. And every so often, for no reason, he clinked his glass with Mortar. Flatline loved them, not in any form of romantic fashion, but in a brotherly, comradely way. Theyd been through some scrapes together and Brics and Morter had always come out the other side, and so, mainly thanks to them, had Flatline.

There was no one better in the business, and it was a hard business

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