Tippy - Venezuela-Assasain III

After putting down the Fresca we made our way out of the bar and hitched a cab to the airport. We had to catch up with Tippy.

Meanwhile south of the border in a small Cantina just south of Mexico City, one lonely rabbit sat in the corner, martini in hand, trying to balance the olive on the stick. Tippy looked around, wondering what he had gotten himself into. Was he trying to live out a dream of helping the man who helped him at his most needy moment? Was he just looking for adventure? Was he trying to make something of his life again, restoring that evangelical zeal that he lost a long time ago. The more he pondered, the more he drank, the more he drank, the more he pondered. It was a vicious catch 22 that he couldn't pull himself out of. He was sad. For the first time in many years his mortality was catching up to him. For the first time in many years .....