Count /kownt/ v. 
            1. determine, esp. one by one, the total number of. 
            2b. sleeping like a baby, see also dead to the world.




                                  

                                   The Hack List
                                          by
                                Daniel Amspaugh
                             Long Beach, CA 90802
                            amspaugh@hotmail.com



Are you on it?




       

        Sebastian was sitting at a small coffee shop, and moments ago, ordered a medium cappuccino from a cute girl. She had dirty blonde hair, not exactly neat, more like messy neat, with purple and blonde bangs. She just left the table and trotted away, smiling and giddy.
        That's a person who loves their job, Sebastian thought miserably.
        "Well," he said, "I don't." Sebastian thoughtfully opened a 3X5 inch notebook and began a list.






















    The waiter had a dirty, little secret. 

    "By the time they find out what is going on," Sebastian finally said. He almost forgot he was talking on the phone. He let the silence on the other end sputter and breath with static a second longer. "I'll be killing the next customer."
    "Who is the next victim?"
    "I'll let you know," and he hung up. Sebastian took a moment to think about the first person, knowing the first was crucial to his success.



    Weeks later, they were standing inside a morgue, an under ground facility for them.
    "If you look here," Bob said, pointing near his temple. "He has lacerations here and there." He pointed with three twig-like hands, and gesturing with a fourth, the cockroach moved delicately to the other side of the man's head. "And we have another laceration here."

    "I'm guessing he was fastened in some kind of device," offered Bob, shrugging. "I removed some residue, some metals flakes imbedded the man's skin, and sent it to forensics." 
    "He could have been handcuffed," Sally said dryly, not meaning to sound playful. Glancing up at Stanford, she added, "I have six pairs."

    "Tell us something else; what did he have last to eat?" Aiken asked. The roach took a tentive step closer to the human being laying on a metal slab. The white sheet festooned to the floor, making small sweeping gestures.

    "I was hoping you would ask that, and you're not going to believe it." Just as Bob hoped and desired, this got their attention.
   
    This was the part he hated. When he knew things were about to get worse. "The victim had dinner reservatations the night he was murdered." He mechanically turned around and locked eyes with Stanford. "He had dinner at Hamburger Murphy's."

    Hamburger Murphy's was home to the Queen of Cockroaches and the largest colony in the world. Inside the building was a man with a twisted idea. He is kiiling rude I-never-left-the-house-before sons of bitches: the worst customers.

How many waiters do you know who hates their job? Are you on the hack list?
   
   

Better check your number