[ WP ] `` What ? Of course I 'm not dead ! ''

`` The hell kind of question is that? Look, when you said we needed to meet and talk about work on a frickin' Sunday afternoon, did I care? No. Did I bitch and complain? No. I put on my big kid pants, left my wife at home, and came here to this ratty-ass diner just for you.'' 
 
 `` Jim, you and I both know you'd have left your wife alone tonight anyway.'' 
 
 `` That's not the point -- and hey, what the fuck man? Who are you talkin' to right now, huh? YOUR BOSS. I swear, you mention one more thing about my wife or what I may or may not do later tonight and you're gon na find yourself with a lot of free time this time next week. Got it?'' 
 
 `` Yeah Jim, I gotcha.'' He smiled a smile that showed itself as something between bemused and pitying. A long drag of his cigarette resulted in the not-quite-finished smoke stick being smashed among the corpses of its long-before extinguished brethren. The man exhaled only slightly away from the face his non-smoking counterpart and gazed apathetically around the smoking section of the diner. It was a 50's style diner much like you see next to a Stuckey's in the middle of New Mexico, or imagine to be the setting of a Hunter S. Thompson book. *Man, people have weird fantasies. Of all the places... * 
 
 `` So what is it you wanted to talk about? Or was that stupid question all you wanted to bother me with?'' Jim looked about the room while chastising the image of his subordinate in front of him, hoping to find the waitress so he could encourage her to get a move on those pancakes. 
 
 `` Jim, why do you like Pulp Fiction?'' 
 
 Jim gave him a look as if to say *If you are n't going to talk about work, thank you for talking about something I like. * `` It's a great movie, ya know? Amazing dialogue, the camerawork is just masterful... and I've got a thing for diners anyway. Like this one! Say, how did you know to invite me here? I did n't even know this place existed! It's pretty nice - very retro and... well, kinda like from Pulp Fiction!'' 
 
 `` I have a gift for this kind of thing. Also, the file helps.'' he said after firing up another cigarette. After taking that long, pleasurable first drag he grabbed the file folder on the table and waived it in Jim's general direction. 
 
 `` File? Holy shit man, have you been stalking me?'' 
 
 Jim's coworker started to laugh. Not a normal laugh; more like a laugh you have to force yourself into, but in the midst of your feigned joviality you find some hilarious irony to your laughter and thus burst into an altogether new level of hilarity. `` You might say so,'' he managed to squeak out after taking a sip of his coffee, `` and you could even say I do this for a living.'' 
 
 Jim's muscular structure fired off in dramatic fashion, effectively doing everything but actually stand up from the table at which they were seated. `` The FUCK man!'' Jim noticed his voice travelling to the ears of nearby customers and tried to quell his furious anger. `` What are you after? Is it money,'cause you sure as fuck know I've got none. We work at the same shitty company for nearly the same shitty salary so you know what I'm lookin' at in my bank. I do a fucking Irish jig when I see a comma in my checking account.'' 
 
 As Jim came to the realization that his subordinate was n't after anything like that, he become both more calm and more aware of his surroundings. The customers he thought were hearing his exclamations were n't there. The waitress had n't been on the floor in 10 minutes. In fact, to the best of his knowledge, there was nobody in the building but them. 
 
 *So it begins. He's finally realized... * 
 
 `` Jim, I'm going to ask you two questions. If you answer them correctly I will give you what you want - even if you do n't realize you want it now. It's something more precious than you wife, your job, or those commas you so desire. Hell, I'll even let you fire me!'' He put the cancerous tube to his mouth and leisurely took a drag. 
 
 `` And if I do n't?'' the slightly less than belligerent boss asked. 
 
 A terrible smile sauntered its way across the lower-ranking man's face. 
 
 `` If you do n't, I have what I would call an'unending' surprise for you.'' 
 
 Jim tried his best to look stern and intimidating. He failed miserably, but kept up the act and decided he'd had enough of this. `` Alright, ask the questions.'' 
 
 `` How did you get home last night, Jim?'' 
 
 *What? Of all the questions... * `` I got in my car with... uh, with a friend. And we - I mean, I took he -- I took her home. That's all.'' 
 
 `` You did n't answer my question, Jim. How did you get home?'' 
 
 Jim looked at the bottom of his empty, stainless coffee cup. `` I dropped her off. And eventually I got home.'' 
 
 `` Are you sure?'' 
 
 `` The fuck do you mean'am I sure?' Of course I'm sure! How the hell am I here if I did n't get home?'' Jim was nearly at his breaking point. He glanced nervously at the file across the table sitting next to his far-too-calm underling. 
 
 `` One last time, Jim. How did you get home?'' 
 
 `` I DROVE HOME. OKAY?'' Jim thought about this statement as soon as it left his lips. Actually, he had no idea. He and that girl had had a hell of a night at her place and kept drinking through the night. 
 
 Kept drinking. 
 
 How did he get home again? 
 
 He got in the car and..... 
 
 `` Ah, I see you've realized something, Jim.'' 
 
 `` Why ca n't I remember how I got home?'' Jim desperately inquired. 
 
 The man in front of him clapped. Not a genuine applause, but a sarcastic, slightly too slow clap. `` Jim, James, Jimmy boy! You've got it. You figured it out.'' 
 
 Jim was teetering of insanity trying to figure out what was going on, when his companion piped up: 
 
 `` So, Jim. My second question.'' 
 
 The suddenly bright red-eyed man inhaled a tar-filled breath of smoky air. 
 
 `` Are you dead?'' 
 
 `` What? Of course I'm not dead!'' 
 
 Jim lost all color in his face. 
 
 His subordinate smiled a devilish smile.
