Friday sat at his massive desk

Reading a single sheet of white paper. His chair was a nice big black number, and his desk was made of redwood, that was polished to a mirror sheen. Inset to the desk were a number of monitors that showed various scenes from around the globe. He finished reading, and fed the sheet of paper into a shredder. It activated with a hum, and ripped the paper into a million bits. He smacked his hands together a couple of times, and rocked back in his chair. He let out a contented sigh, got up, and walked out of the office.

The office was in a wing of a gigantic mansion, and Friday strolled through huge, opulent, and empty halls, until he came to the armory. He entered, and gazed at an array of weapons lined up on the walls. His gaze passed crossbows, rifles, old-timey flintlock pistols, spearguns, shotguns, swords, knives, maces, axes, assault rifles, machine guns, foils, rapiers, revolvers, automatics, brass knuckles, Derringers, garrots, whips, flails, spears, daggers, and an array of dangerous looking throwing-stars.

He picked up a speargun from the wall. Behind it was a post-it-note, that was yellowed with age, but miraculously still stuck to the wood paneling. Upon it was written

"You are a good boy - Venus"

Surrounding the words, were drawn eight poorly constructed (and very cute) stars.

"Fjuck." Said Friday. He looked around, and spied on a coffee table, a pad of post-it's, and a black sharpie. He walked over and scribbled some words on the pad. It read,

"The one I love, I will shoot through the heart with a speargun, and pull her to me."
He pulled the note off the pad, walked back and stuck it next to the other note on the wall. He replaced the speargun, and left for the night.

Happy Friday.