It was beyond hate; beyond contempt. It was fury past its prime: careless and unrelenting destruction. And all because of me. It was the cook.

I could see his one eye bulging as he realized who I was. My job revolved around the factor of my secrecy, but this guy - he knew. I had shut him down and out a couple of times, and if this test failed, he would have caused one of the largest restaurants in this one-light town to be given the ultimate can-kicker. Sometimes I hated this job. But as I saw the compelling, obsessive urge to stand up to me come to life in his tooth-filled frown, I realized that this was the only line of work for a guy like me. This moment - from the counter up front, my sight travelling straight out and onto the uncooked meat, the unsanitary palms slipping and slapping all kinds of infection suspects - was divine. Poised, I was a gargoyle, a frozen monster just waiting to strike. In a thousand timelines past, blood would be drenching from how hard my teeth were clenched in this euphoric moment.

A woman's stoic voice brings me back.

"That'll be 8 bucks and 41 cents."

I hand her a twenty.

"Got a penny?"

"No," I say, without checking. Twenty is all I need to condemn the slimy bastard behind the counter. Twenty is all I need to slide it up and ace this operation.

I slink back towards an unoccupied table. I glance at my watch. Tells me I've missed my wife's birthday dinner, but not too late to drop some flowers into her grasp and grab some birthday love. I look towards my meal, sigh, and pull out my deadliest weapon.

Clip-board.

It's time to take evil down the only way I know how. I write down the restaurant's name, and smile one of my most sinister smiles.

I mark an X.