Subject: A sinkhole of gloom.
Posted on: 2016-02-05 15:57:28 UTC

That was probably the best way to describe the demeanor over at the booth containing the members of what once had been District Cynic. The only person who didn't look slightly sour was Xericka, who still wore the same neutral expression that she almost always had. Even so, there was something in the set of her shoulders that gave off a little disappointment.

"Next to last on the district rankings," James said as he perused the final standings scorecards that had been handed out. "No individual agent ranked higher than 21st place. An average of one eliminated agent per day." He paused, then emptied his glass of bourbon. "Definitely not our best showing."

"No kidding," Laura groused. "I still can't believe that the two us — experienced Assassins! — got fewer combined kills than a single DBS agent. No offense, Gremlin."

Gremlin shrugged. "None taken. It's surprising to me, too. Although I should point out that one of those was a mercy kill."

"It seems that does not matter to whoever happened to score this event," Xericka added.

James peered over the sheet again. "Does anybody know why we were named District Cynic? Seems a bit out of place, if I do say so myself." There was a collective shrug from the other people sitting at the table. James responded with a shrug of his own before tossing the scorecard aside. "I'm going to get a fresh glass. Anybody want anything?"

"I could use another beer," Gremlin said.

"Can do. Anyone else?" The other two agents waved him off. "All right. Back in a second."

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