I didn’t know squat abut politics, governance. If you were betting on me to recite the three branches of government you’d be shit out of luck. Horse racing, heck even the opera I could handle. I was what you’d call a multi-faceted guy. That is until Fred, the City Editor, assigned me to the Mayor’s office. I was out of my depth. So I start nosing around for a story and along comes this dame with legs that wouldn’t quit. Turns out she’s the mayor’s secretary and she’s hungry to dish. She takes me back to her place. She tucks into rye and ginger. I tuck into her. Along comes her husband. She’s calling his name. I’m hoping into my pants one leg at a time while diving for the door and, when he blocks my entrance, the window. He’s clutching a midnight special. Aiming it at my chest. All I’m thinking is, really? I was dead before I hit the pavement.  With a death that spectacular how could I not be on the front page?