Georgia Dee, Ironically, Is a Supporter of the EPA

As he scribbled the note in his narrow cursive, he thought of his beloved Georgia a thousand miles away. She had left for Germany exactly one month ago, and he thought about her every day.

May the Sun always rise,
May my tongue never lie
When I see my Georgia Dee, he wrote. He thought hard for a few more seconds.

And may the angels rejoice
And the heavens have no choice
But to sing of my Georgia Dee, he continued. Sappy, but perfect. Though it did sound a little familiar…

He rolled it up, slipping the note into an amber bottle, corking the top. He happily tossed it into the sea, knowing that even if she never saw it, it was surely the most romantic thing a man could’ve done.

Suddenly, he was broken from his reverie by rough hands grabbing him from behind.

“EPA,” one man in dark glasses said. “You’ve violated code a5412 p.3.”

The lover looked up, confused.

“You water polluted, filthy scum!” barked his holder. “You’re comin’ with us.”

The man was dragged along, confused and lost.

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