Toads and Goats

Our efforts to observe the apartment of a Bosnian war criminal — the Toad — wanted by the Hague were one-deep and depended solely on the sightings from our tactical reconnaissance teams hiding in woodlands while evading and avoiding goat herds. Sure, we were “gathering intelligence” on the guy, but it was just so… one-dimensional and shallow. We finally entertained a much-needed shift in gears, a shakeout of creativity to get closer to and collect faster on the Toad.

During a spitball session, one brother threw this out:

“We’ve got deep pockets; let’s buy the goat herd so we can get rid of them, then move closer and stay longer in persistent stare on the Toad.”

“What in the name of shit do we do with a herd of goats, Bob?”

“We sell them off on the cheap and recoup most of our money, Cantor.”

“That is the most God-awful stupid idea, Bob… just God-awful stupid!”

“Well fuck me, Cantor… that’s what you do at a spitball — let’s hear YOUR stellar ideas.”

“We get an apartment — Geo gets an apartment as close to the Toad as he can, so the Toad can be watched longer, closer, and from his face — not his ass.”