Tossed and flayed on a hell-sea of crime, the last remaining residents of the blood-bathed mean streets of Broomfield, Colorado endure yet one more heinous torture flame from the furnace of crime: a mind-boggling scam game that toys with the victims' very understanding of right and wrong, up and down, death and very life.
Thought through clearly, it seems brutally obvious that the easiest potential prey for con men and false messiahs would be the tattered and scarred remnants of the Broomfield burger class. After all, torn by years of criminal rampaging shit-storms, the disoriented and disheartened citizens of Broomfield make easy pickings for those who would capitalize on the weak and anemic minds of the damned.
But even so, the scam pulled in the story below is beneath contempt. Perhaps a human being's last true natural right is the boundary between life and death. And yet the confidence artist uses the shadowy spaces on that very boundary to extract the last measly savings of hairkeepers and their kin, gripped in sweaty hands of desperate proto-humans with nowhere to turn.
Maybe the jackals do swoop down on the weakest among us, but it seems less than human to parade the corpse of a brave yet demolished hair-dresser -- a hair-dresser on the edge of life itself -- before her trembling colleagues, demanding their last meager shekels -- a mere $136 -- in the name of respect for the dead. Toying with emotions is one thing, but toying with a battered man's very comprehension of the fundamentals of qualitative physics is something else indeed.
It's time to demand the final evacuation of all remaining refugees in Broomfield, City of Crime. No longer can they face this influx of snake-oilers and carpet-bagging hucksters, shaking them down for blood money on the edge of eternity. When even the human mind is subject to criminal rampage, is it not time to pull out of the hellscape once and for all?