The following takes places between an agent of the government and an informant.

“…Hey.”

“Hello Mr. Johnson.”

“I can’t do this anymore.”

“I’m sorry?

“I can’t. Do this. Anymore. Hear me?”

“Yes, I hear you… But I just want to make sure that you understand the repercussions of your own words.”

“…You took them all.”

“You do understand what it would mean to be taken off the payroll of the United States government, Jay? Please don’t make this decision too hastily. I really like you, kid. You’ve given my department a lot.”

“You knew you were taking all our heroes, didn’t you? You had your sleazy fucking affairs and bribed them and made them sign contracts so they wouldn’t talk and now all our heroes are quiet for you.”

“I’m not understanding, Jay. We are on the same side here. My hero is your hero. We each put our left hands on our hearts during the pledge of allegiance. Let’s give this thing a proper discussion in the morning.”

“You left us without heroes. My whole generation. Now there are villains everywhere. Where is James Dean, where is the rebel in a leather jacket, huh sir? I’d give everything to see him ride into town on his motorcycle, his mustang convertible, his b-52 bomber. What did you do with the body of my generation?”

“Jay, listen, you are talking out of your head. I’m willing to let this all pass under the Broadway Bridge if you just hang up now and go to bed and forget this ever happened.”

“No, I get it now. We did it, we let the heroes die. Now even the lowliest soul could be Great in our eyes. Hyperbole killed the cat, right?”

“Are you a little messed up tonight, kid?”

“That isn’t the point.”

“Jay, I’ve been there before. You don’t have to speak to me like I’m your father.”

“I just, I can’t do this anymore.” Hangs up the phone.

“Must be a full moon for those wackos tonight…”