Mr. Reed was royally pissed off.

The virtual whore house those scrawny-necked geeks had set up at his geocoordinates was a blemish on the otherwise spotless reputation of his fine foods business. Bitches and caviar didn't mix. And Mr. Reed was not about to let anyone jeopardize the success he had scraped together from the crumbs of so many sacrifices.

Follow request: The_Cleaner_Brighton.

The_Cleaner_Brighton is now following you on Twitter.

d @The_Cleaner_Brighton: Need to remove porn geolayer at 50.826298,-0.139132. Pls help.

d @RitchesFoods: £5K to via PayPal. I will handle it Tues.

d @The_Cleaner_Brighton: Sent.

Tuesday, May 23rd, 2013.

Refresh… porn… refresh… hookers… refresh… nothing.

Mr. Reed smiled for the first time in months. The_Cleaner_Brighton was good. The seedy geolayer would soon be a distant memory; a humorous conversation piece at the club. How refreshing to have one's top worry once again be whether to stock Norwegian or Scottish salmon next month.

His smile faded as his glance fell on the morning paper.


d @The_Cleaner_Brighton What did you do?

d @RitchesFoods I handled it.

@The_Cleaner_Brighton You killed them?

d @RitchesFoods That wasn't a direct message.

d @RitchesFoods Don't worry, I'll handle it.