“Oh, oh, wait! I got it,” Zack yelled out. “Changing street lights, that’s what you used to do for a living.” Daryl let the boy wait in tension, chewing his beans down before slowly licking the juice of his fingers. “Nope,” Daryl answered. “Wrong. Again.” “For the fiftieth time today,” I muttered under my breath, getting annoyed by their little game. “I have to say; the longer this game lasts, the less creative ideas you can come with, Zack.” “If you’re so damn creative, why don’t you tell us what Daryl used to do for a living, then,” Zack replied.
“Fine,” I replied confidently, capturing the attention of the entire group sitting in the prison’s refectory. “Daryl used to sell bibles door-to-door.” Rick snorted in laughter as well as the rest of the group. Even tired Lori cracked a little smile. Daryl of course disagreed with my idea, his head vigourously shaking in denial. “That’s just absolutely ridiculous,” Zack commented. “I don’t know, man. I think she has a point,” T-Dog added, “I could totally see Daryl in a suit, a polkadot tie, glasses and a briefcase filled with bibles, speading the word of God.”
“Well, Zack, obviously the selling bibles job was just a big cover-up for Daryl’s real profession,” I retorded. “Dixon was actually a German spy send out to kill people in their home…” “That’s more like it,” Daryl nodded approvingly at my creative guessing. “Beats changing street lights.” “Well, did you kill people for money?” Zack asked, clearly intrigued by the idea. “Sadly no. Although, that would’ve been a fine career choice.” And with that conclusion, yet another round of guessing began.