Dear Partnerman:

I could have given you a long, angry response after you told me you were "trying to speed me up because I walk really slow," but I didn't. Instead, I kept walking at my normal pace and let you run off ahead; this may have annoyed you, but it also kept you alive. Thank me later.

I'm sorry that it's such an inconvenience to you, Manstork. I've had to go through physical therapy twice in the past six years so I could walk. I've broken both my legs, and my knees have gone out twice. Because of this, on damp, chilly days my joints stiffen and my old fractures ache. But, none of that is information you need to know, because what you think of me does not matter. You're not my boss, you're just some kid with a big mouth and no tact who's two inches taller and a year ahead of me.

Tonight happends to be one of those damp and chilly days. I cannot walk any faster right now because of my lovely arthritic flare-up. You're lucky I'm walking at all. But you know what? It shouldn't be a fucking problem, anyway, because no one ever said you and I have to patrol together. In fact, last shift we got in trouble because they think we hang out too much. Head off on your own so you can "cover more ground" and leave me be.

Kthxdie.