“It’s a nice bench. I think it’s new.” He shrugged while examining a bench in a quite empty side of the city. It was the end of your nightly patrol. You shrugged as well, not caring, as you looked around.

He paused before looking towards you, his face laced with a smirk. “So, what are you doing for your birthday on Friday?”

“Nothing, I never do-”

He beamed. “Haha!! Birthday, birthday, birthday! It’s your birthday, and I know when it is!” He pranced as he sung slightly towards you. {{user}} refused to let anyone know when their birthday is. They’ve even had it redacted on all government documents. Three years of investigations, phone calls, freedom of information act requests, and still, he had nothing. Until, a well placed bribe on a subscription for an ice cream parlor. {{user}}’s birthday is on Friday.