[ WP ] You feel a slight tug on your pants , and turn to see a terrified pickpocket , trying desperately to return what he just stole .

I did it, all my life's work will not compare to this. It was lucky really, no one else had managed to do it and lived to tell the tale. The funny thing is that I was n't even trying to do it. 
 
 Now, all I had to do was sell my story for a pretty penny and, what was that? 
 
 I turned at the feeling on my legs. A man dressed in rags was thrusting his hands at me, `` take it back, TAKE IT BACK!'' 
 
 I was startled, confused, a little scared too I will admit, but I put my hand out and he placed something in it and fled screaming. Everyone on the sidewalk gave me space as they eyed me suspiciously. 
 
 I looked at my hand, it was a memory card. It looked just like the one I had put in my... I quickly checked my pocket, it was gone. I turned over the one in my hand and confirmed my horrible suspicion. 
 
 A horn blared, a taxi had jumped the curb heading for me. I jumped but it still clipped me as I bounced against the wall of the building and landed face down. I tried moving but could n't. 
 
 I saw the card close by but a man in a suit and dark shades had stopped to pick it up. Another man dressed the same kneeled next to me, `` he's dead.'' 
 
 I felt a small pressure near my neck, `` no I'm not'' I thought. I guess I should n't have written `` Clinton evidence'' on it. 
 

