Man, if anyone had told me that morning what crazy course this very day would take, I would have declared him mad - even still at midday, even still early that afternoon. Now, in the middle of the evening, I was done with a series of cunning criminal arrangements in order to cover the tracks of my boss who was no more than a helpless hand-held bundle, coffered in a grimy pizza/gym-bag. He wasn't awake yet from his electrical faint, not even by the time when I arrived at home with him; maybe the last shrinking rate had been a bit too overdosed, but it simply had been about risk minimization - for me, of course; even at the cost of a higher risk for him. But being the active player of the two of us, there was a lot at stake for me, so I had made up my mind to get the maximum out of the technique and increased the shrinking rate by another five percent ... I had found this decision responsible enough, 35% seemed still far away from the letal 50%-rate and even from the precarious 40%-border Ryker had warned me of. And my boss playing little sleeping beauty suited me quite fine, actually, even though I had taped him to an immovable bundle - this time I also linked his wrists and ankles together, to get him more compact; but yet I didn't feel like dealing with a possible uproar of the pissed runt when coming to and realizing he had been short-changed, literally.
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