the complainant is retard, fired from job, fast food, because of three pieces of bacon. Investigator called him and he does not understand a thing. His mama answered and saying his papa is dying. He is looking for another job. I feel weird every afternoon. And this afternoon, the retard kid reminds me of why I am here. You know what's really sad? I probably have to forget about this case in three hours, until I am reminded again, in anther chilly autumn afternoon, bright and clean sunshine going through my huge windows, clouds passing by so close and dear, while bringing so little warmth.