Talk:Jailor/@comment-68.199.247.2-20150525132015

Here`s a random custom story thought of. Let me know what you think.

It was a dark night and the jailor was heading to the vigilante`s house to have some tea. All of a sudden, he hears a scream. The mafia have struck again. He runs to the vigilante`s house and sees him lying on the ground. He holds him as he whispers his dying words. "Steve." Determined to bring justice, he accuses Steve but no one believes him. He heads to the mayor`s house to address his concerns. "Ok" the mayor says. "I will let you take this into your own hands. Talk to Steve at night. I give you permission to preform execution, but if you are wrong, that right will be taken away. I do, however still trust you to find leads since you are headstrong." The jailor walks to the jailhouse, permit in hand, Steve in the backseat of his car. "Tell me what you did last night" he says. Steve replies "I was taking care of my wife. She`s dearly sick and I don`t know what to do." "Oh, Allysa`s sick" the jailor asks. "Very" Steve responds. The jailor turns around, gun in hand, finger on trigger. "Your wife`s name is Brooke." (Credit to CindyZhengForev)