I was the Pope's Elite Doped Out Assassin, and I was waiting for the walk light at a crosswalk. A crosseyed young lad who couldn't have been but 3.27 posed a question to me:
"Did you lose your earlobe in the war, mister?"
"No, son," I replied with a chuckle, "I lost it in the third round against Tyson."
While he'd been asking his question, however, I had used my spy-umbrella to inject a pellet of pure holy spirit into the diplomat waiting there as well.
Always use enviornmental situations where you can. All was going according to plan.
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