I knew immediately it was junk; the routines bombed out on load.
“Send me the money back and we'll say no more. This is worthless.”
“We had a deal. You think you can f**k with me?”
“Look, keep 5% for expenses,” I said. “Give me the rest and we'll go our separate ways.”
“I want my money.”
But I had already cut the connection. I was instantly back in my bed in my trashed stackroom, the ceiling and its cracks still there above me.
Almost immediately I was contacted again. The other Ringo supplier. Or, more likely, the same guy. Trying to play me.
“Yeah?” I said in as bored a voice as possible.
“Are you still interested in Ringo Starr?”
Pretending he didn't know anything. Driving up the value by restricting the supply.
“Only if I can test first.”
We haggled for a time. He offered to
