You're a cop. You got so drunk the last three nights, you don't remember your name, the case you're on, or even how to think straight. You need to get your shyt together. If only you had some kind of "Volumetric shyt Compressor." Your partner, a sober cop from another precinct, is here to help you solve a murder. The city is on the brink of mass violence because the dockworkers' union is on strike and the capitalists have sent heavily armored mercenaries to protect their interests.
And then different parts of your mind start talking to you. And each other.
What kind of cop are you?
And then different parts of your mind start talking to you. And each other.
What kind of cop are you?