Parsons loved a stakeout.
Usually they happened in some dirt bag part of town.
Today’s was different.
Who’d ever suspect Mr and Mrs Suburbia to be running a drug operation way out here in the Burbs?
He had set up his surveillance in the front room of Mr and Mrs Middle Class, who thought he was there to fix the curtains.
He had attached a camera to their window frame aimed at the house across the street. Parson’s was holed up in his van down the street monitoring the whole goings on when there was a knock on the door.
Opening it he found Mr Suburbia standing there, a machinegun in hand.
His obituary was brief. The end to a curtain repairman’s life, gunned down in a shoot out between two rival gangs.
Mr and Mrs Suburbia smiled as they sipped their morning coffee, for life had a way of rewarding the innovative.