My first thought is wondering where the victim was. I panic, fearing he had escaped, but I have the feeling that there is no possible way for him to have survived. I wonder why I haven't cleaned up the blood and gore spattered across the entire room, but come to think of it, this isn't even my own room. I must have been pretty damn drunk to leave the job half-done. Still no body though, but a pounding headache does point to drinking as the most likely cause. To find the body, I would have to sober up and recollect my thoughts. I stumble into the adjoined bathroom, and pull open the shower curtain, half-expecting to find the corpse slumped behind it, bleeding into the drain. It is empty, though, and I take a shower, the cold water awakening me like a freezing shock of electricity. Still no answer. I return to the bedroom, freezing and naked, and something gashes my foot as I step over the threshold. I pull the splintered wedge of wood out of my foot, and it all comes back to me. The victim and his woman owe money to he mob. I was hired to kill one and threaten the other. A woman being the more emotional of creatures, I assumed, she would break down and pay if the boyfriend was killed. I should have used more planning and caution, but I was right plastered the night before and running low on cash, so I decided to do it then. Knocking out the victim in an alley and tying him up was easy enough, but Captain Morgan advised me to really send a message with this killing. Hijacking the wood-chipping vehicle from the woods where land was being cleared for a new suburb proved more difficult, but it was not far from the victim's house. The next bit of work was loud of course, not least because I had to break a window to drive the chipper up to, but the operation of this device was particularly obvious and ear-splitting. I drove this vehicle, still dripping, back to the site, and returned to the house to assess the situation, wherin the former occupant of this bedroom had become its new coat of paint, but I had passed out drunk in my victim's own bed. As I pieced this together, I heard click and rattle in the lock of the house; the victims lover, working the night shift in a hospital until dawn, had returned. I leapt out of the window, and ran naked down the street in the chill dawn light.