I was an interrogator.
They’d put a subject in a room, handcuff him to a table, and then I’d take over.
I’d bring in a manual typewriter, feed a sheet of paper into it, and ask questions.
All the while, I’d type in my notes.
Some of the subjects, they didn’t want to talk.
Or they’d yell at me. Or pray over and over loudly.
I’d stay in there, drinking my water, and just waiting them out.
Eventually, they’d talk. They’d say everything.
Then, I’d put the paper in a folder, pick up the typewriter, and bash in their skull.