True Crime, indeed. Once, in a more innocent time, the agency's awards were left lying around outside the fourth floor toilet like so much light reading. Even the lowliest intern could heft a Gold Lion and dream. When Jamie's award went missing, we just naturally assumed someone was playing a joke... at first. (Well, I assumed that. He assumed I was fucking with him. It took an offensively long time to convince him I was not.)
Everything you see here happened much as you see it, with the exception of the dead mouse in the glue trap. It was actually a live mouse in a glue trap and it was suffering horribly. I don't care to discuss what happened next, save to say that getting it stuck to my face would have actually been less disturbing.
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