Moe is the the corner of the bar. The usual lights of his “confessional hour” are off tonight. The new radio crackles and sputters in the corner, and Moe’s official reason for the change is that he wants someone on watch with that thing until the search group comes back. A bunch of people assume that Moe wants to fiddle with his new toy and make sure it’s up to his typical standards. The real reason…
An empty cask of the Special Reserve is next to him, one he has just emptied moments ago. He swirls the drink in his mug, staring into the liquid. The radio signal fitzes and flutters beside him as he stares on, lost in thought.
The note is on the table next to him. And as the takes another sip, Moe thinks about the circumstances of which he had aquired it.
The sound of the gunshot ringing in his ear, the look of…betrayal on Amos’ face.._
Moe had returned, fully intent on burning the note that Amos had handed off in his last request. But as he sits here, he can’t bring himself to do it. He can’t bring himself to open it. So he just sits, sipping his drinks. Waiting.
It’s for what exactly he’s waiting for he doesn’t know.Moe