Baba Jo though window washing was a profession you could be proud of. There were a lot of dirty windows in this world and they seemed to just get dirty naturally. A good window washer could wash a window with one long movement, flipping from sponge to squeegee with one swift twist and pulling every last drop of moisture off.

For this strange job they had wanted three real good washers to come out to some kind of government building and to a three day job in two days. These was the kind of windows you couldn't see nothing through, Baba Jo thought.

This sure wasn't no regular place, that was for sure. It was almost a full day's drive out of town, and his boss Gravity seemed real nervous about the whole thing.

"Baba Jo," he'd said, "you're a real good window washer. Plus you're double the size of any other guy. You get triple pay on this job, just for chrissakes don't stick your nose anywhere but in the window you're washing."

Baba Jo had no intention of sticking his nose anywhere else. Next to the shiny building were all these strange humming silos all painted white. Baba Jo didn't want to know anything about it.

Just then, he heard Gravity's voice, all strange-like call up to him, "Hey Baba Jo, those last two windows on your side are the last ones. Finish 'em up real quick and come on down."

When he got down the ladder he saw why Gravity was talking so funny. Two of those government men had some really fancy looking rifles pointed at them. They were talking to he and Gravity as he approached them, "Making windows that had to be washed at this facility was a design flaw. No one can know where this facility is."

Baba Jo whimpered involuntarily. Next to him, a door in the side of the building opened, and a suited man walked out with something in his hands. Baba Jo rushed past him in a panic, knocking him to the ground. He charged into some blank, sterile hallway leading deep into the building. He winced as he heard the sound of big heavy bullets slamming against the door as he ran for his life.