The little guilty sensation

deep in his

stomach/ his mind/ his

groin

felt good. Doing wrong

always did.

He was cleverer than they gave him credit for.

For instance,

doing this in such

a way that none would

ever know how or why.

A favor really, they

should be thanking him.

Not that they

ever would. No,

surely some crack-brained

scheme. Sure to fail.

Good.

Riddance.