Dear Uncle Drago,
I am in a fix. I was a handful growing up and got six years for GBH when I was 18. When I got out, no one was pleased to see me and I could not get any work anywhere. After a month one of my old cellmates got in touch and asked if I wanted a job. It was as a security guard for a plant on a remote island in the Pacific. Didn't have any better offers, so I said yes. First, it was great. The money was alright. I met a woman there and had a kid. From talking to some of the pointy heads there, I gather they were making brain implants. They were implanted straight into the dopamine centres, so you did not have to bother buying drugs. You just pay the equivalent of £5 a month in cryptocurrency and they stimulate your pleasure centres via satellite. Well, somehow Mossad got wind of it and sent out their best guy, but Dum Dum, the head henchman, sorted him out. Then the CIA sent out their best agent with the same result. Now MI6 are sending their best guy. I told Dum Dum maybe he should advise the boss to back off, because this guy's good. Dum Dum told me not to worry. If I die my kid will be looked after. I asked him what if I refused to fight, and he said my kid would be looked after. Maybe we'll get lucky. There are fifty of us. We all have body armour, a HK MP5 submachine gun, and a Glock 17 handgun. It just doesn't seem to make any difference. What makes me even more worried is that I hear he has a woman with him. I hear you were a bit tasty in your younger days, law enforcement, wasn't it? If you have any ideas then spit them out.
