[@Byrd Man] It's probably frowned upon to sip Scotch at eight in the morning but man, does your post ever make me want to find the nicest leather chair I can and pour myself a single malt. Were the story not declared to be modern it could easily fit into back into the 1950s. I'm hearing jazz and blues in the background, I can smell the cigarette smoke. All this post was missing is a leggy dame come to ask John for his help in the way only a femme fatale could.