Weight control?
Brett gunned his car and made the U-turn that took him towards his own home.
Weight control was a surefire thing. And he’d never known anyone with a knack
for finding elusive formulas the way Fernando could. He, Brett, didn’t want to
lose out on a surefire thing like a weight control formula that really worked.
Deep in thought, he drove home.
The thought that
he ought to be the one to cash in on Fernando’s discovery stayed with him the
whole next week, and eventually a plan formed in his mind. The more he thought
about it, the surer he was he could pull it off. He had that little lab in his
house, and it would be easy to get any equipment needed. It was down in the
cellar, and there was only one way in and out. I would work. Every time he
considered how unbelievably rich he’d be, his resolve strengthened. He knew he
couldn’t pass this up.
A week later, he
waited for Fernando to come out of the lab. He was lucky, as so often before,
Fernando was the last to leave. And he still had no car.
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