I'm sorry guys. I don't even know what I was writing.


Well.

This is not a common position I find myself in.

I rarely find myself pinned to a wall, arms spread out like some kind of jesus…

Well, I guess that's not politically correct. Or correct. Jesus saves lives.

I just ruin them.


"Abandoned the New Republic for half a decade…"


I stand- or, well, hang from my hands- in front of a crowd of around fifty, sixty, eighty maybe, seventy easily, group of mobians. Five years ago, they'd be applauding or something.

Five years later they want to lynch me.

On the bright side, you can't say I'm not popular.


"Allied himself with the failed Sally Acorn of Knothole,"


I try to shrug, doing my best impression of a monkey scratching his nose with his toe. I don't know if they're trying something new and make an example out of me, or ran out of nails and couldn't finish pegging me to the wall.


"And then accepted a bribe to feign death by Ivo Robotnik."


"What do you say, heathen?"

Oh. Right. The execution. Of me.

Well, a lot has changed in five years. I don't know who you guys are or what the New Republic is. Frankly, I don't give a shit. Like I said, a lot has changed in five years. I'm no capitalist bastard.

Take that for what you will. I'm done talking.


"The execution will be carried out immediately."


Guess who's going to chop my head off?

I smile at Knuckles, he just glares at me.

I give a look of boredom. "I'm disappointed."

He says nothing and raises the axe. I close my eyes.

"I'm already gone."

I close my eyes and I open them. Now I

'm driving to the lake in a corvette. Couple broads in the seats. Mountainside view is beautiful.


Opulentia evinco totus.