“Jack? Jack! Wake up!”

Someone’s calling my name…

“Jack, you inbred, wake up already!”

Why is someone calling my name? Can’t they see I’m sleeping?

“If you don’t wake up in the next five seconds, I swear to God I’m gonna hurt you.”

I’m just gonna go back to bed. Yeah. That’s a good plan… It’s too comfy to get up…

“Okay, Jack. If you don’t get up, you don’t get breakfast. I went all out this time. Seriously. Eggs… Toast… Bacon…”

I snap my eyes open, fighting back against the warm embrace of my bed. I fling my blanket off me, swinging my long legs over the side and planting them firmly to the ground. With a mighty grunt, I snap myself upright, narrowly missing headbutting Spike on the way up.

“Where’s the bacon?”

Before Spike could utter a reply, I was off to the kitchen. My stomach urging me to hurry with its soft meowling. Ripping open my bedroom door, I tear through our dusty living room. Throughout all the years of us living here, we've garnered quite the collection of ‘Chique’ furniture. Two worn, brown leather couches strewn around a small, coffee-and-beer stain patterned table. Thick, blue, dusty carpeting lines the floor, slightly springy beneath the feet. I can hear Spike slowly following behind me, whistling a merry tune.

I reach the kitchen entrance and utter a primal grunt as I rip open the door and stand in the doorway. Generations of instincts kick in as I take a deep breath through my nose, my senses sharpening to a razor sharp point.

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I take in the kitchen, attempting to pinpoint my mark. Our old, black stove flanking the leftmost corner of the room being my first target. I scan the top of its hot plates, completely clean and unobstructed. I sweep my gauze across the countertops to the right of it. Discarded and forgotten letters, a carton of cigarettes, and some breadcrumbs adorn the tops. Not a plate, or a dish in site.

With growing dismay, I turn towards my final target.

Our small, plastic folding table adorns the back wall, adjacent to the door. Two folding chairs sit on either side of it.

My heart sinks as I take in the site on top.

On top of the table, sat not a bountiful early morning feast of fried pig and cooked yolk.

But a black envelope, unopened, with silver letters etched to the front.

I hear Spike’s whistling getting closer, as he merrily makes his way to the kitchen to join me.

“Jack, you’re blocking the door.”

I turn back to look at the damned behemoth. He’s looking down at me, A grin spreading across his face.

The sly fucker.

I let out a sigh, my stomach rumbling in protest. Fucking duped again. I've never felt such betrayal. I shamble my way to the chair facing the doorway, slump into it, and stare up in disgust at Spike.

“Hey, you want eggs and bacon?” he asks, casually making his way to his seat opposite mine. He slowly gestures to the menacing envelope sitting between us.

“Well, here's your eggs and bacon. Fresh off the pan, might I add. Found it this morning.”

Another job from the Feds.

For a second, I manage to fully convince myself that it's their fault I'm currently slurping tomato slushie for dinner.

Then I remember the club, and that girl ‘Sasha’.

I let out another deep groan and slump further into my chair. The fold-up table gives a slight jump as my knee smacks the bottom of it, sending the envelope flying off the table. I look up and see Spike raising his eyebrow at me, the envelope left forgotten on the floor.

“Jack, this ain't like you… You usually love getting new missions!” Spike leans his weight on the table, the cheap metal legs groaning in protest. “I'm getting concerned, buddy. If you have a problem, you gotta tell me. We're partners, remember?”

I look back at the cupboards. One lays slightly open, seemingly looking back at me. Inside of it, I can see them.

Those cylindrical, red devils.

A tear wells up in my eye, as I think of the breakfast that never was.

“Spike, if we finish this mission, can you promise me one thing?”

“Yeah, sure buddy. What?”

I look back to him, his shit eating grin welcoming me back.

“You're making a goddamn feast of bacon and eggs when we get back.”