Quantimino Bay: Not the President's Day

    "Sir sir? You need to determine whether or not we will post these birthdays onto today's Newscast."
    Rocky slapped the papers from his assistance's hands. "What do look like? President of Birthdays? The Birthday President. I don't give a shit about Birthdays."
    "Yes, but it is very important to Tierra," the assistant said.
    "Why does she think that everything revolves around her. It's like when I am at the station, I'm just visiting her world."
    The assistant handed the papers to his boss. "I understand, but you might as well look." Rocky grabbed the papers and quickly glanced at the least.
    "May, Turk, Glenda, and Leap." None of these are worthwhile. As the name's soaked into Rocky's mind he grabbed his assistant and pulled him into the wall. A briage of bullets sprang through wall where they had been standing. "Not this again." Rocky said. He yanked a blow dart gun from his jackets. "Let's hope there's six more weeks of winter."