So, Sherlock, you want a riddle? You're our pro on these headcrackers, right? Here, look. One lame hobo came around here. Either nuts of just demented, hell if I knew. All in rags, dirty head to toe, and the stench! A walking chemical weapon. Launched one on some vector, and where he goes, everything dies off. Hehe. Oh, damn, laughter through tears. But I digress. Just wanted to dispose of him, a bit farther away so the stink wouldn't reach us, but one of our boys recognized his former homie in that pile of turd. Imagine that! Horrid things are going on, turning people from normal to such rubbish for shit! But not the point. The dude that recognized this heap of rags, said that he was not just a regular prick, but a Deputy Head of Security for two special sensitive zones on the Polikhim! Just imagine what kind of source could he become if he could at least remember his name, not just chew snots and mumble while slapping lips like mad. What a shame! I don't know what got to him, but here's what I think. All this time that bagger existed somewhere, sleeping on some pissed-through mattresses? Right! You should look for that. Need a hazmat suit? Haha, kidding. But if it comes to it, the hazmat's on me, and not only it.
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