With the precision of an Olympic athlete Faith managed to launch the No#2 pencil into the air. The yellow missile arched gracefully through the air till the sharp led point stuck into the ceiling tile above her head. The pencil joined its numerous brethren in the pile of pencils that now called the ceiling tile home. It took skill, perfected by years of boredom. Faith grinned as she watched the pink eraser butt wiggle slightly before the momentum died and the pencil became a permanent fixture of her cubicle. Or rather, the spot above her cubicle. With a sigh she looked at first the watch on her wrist, then the clock on the computer, and finally the one on her BlackBerry. The computer was running a minute behind, figures. Microsoft wasnt exactly the most dependable software after all. Especially when Faith was actually bridging the language barrier and began to understand what the Blue Screen of Death was actually saying. Mostly it wanted bales with creamy creamy cream cheese. There were still a few kinks to work out.

With her head tilted back, her arms folded across her stomach, Faith was slowly entering nap-behind-the-desk-while-at-work mode when the shrill ringing of her desk phone got her attention. With a groan, she reached for the receiver, counting the rings as the receptionist usually gave up after five. Faith counted to six, damn must be important. Picking up the receiver she pressed it to her ear and leaned back in her chair, using a paperclip to dig the dirt from under her nails. "Danovan" "Hey Faith, got a guy here with a tip on a story sounds like its just up your ally." A.k.a. Weird and no one else wants it. With a loud sigh that was a mix of frustration and just simple I-dont-wanna, Faith nodded, then recalled Rose, the receptionist couldnt see it and sighed again.

"Okay put him through." Rose was more than happy to oblige. There was a click and Faith smiled putting some humanity into her voice as she spoke up" This is Faith Danovan, Thank you for calling Salem Post, I understand you have story?"

There was pause before a hesitated voice spoke up. Faith rolled her eyes, oh god he was whispering into the phone...She bet he had his hand over it too, so no one could read his lips. Great. "Sir? I cant hear you sir, could you speak up please?" Whispering was fine, if you were there IN person, it kind of sucked on the phone. Clearly the man on the other end of the phone understood, as the next line that came over the phone was just insanity. "Theres a guy across the street from me. His house is covered in plants."

"Im sorry....theres a guy across the street from you and his house is covered in plants?"

Faith plucked another pencil out of the box with what she assumed was George Washington on the cover. What the hell did he have to do with pencils, Faith didnt know. Unless the pencils were made out of cherry wood? "No you dont understand, its been like less than a week and there are plants EVERYWHERE. I can see through my window its like...theyre there by magic." Alright...Faith wasnt sold, but at least he was hitting some of the right notes. "So you can see the plants because youre spying on your neighbor? What are the plants? Weed?" Maybe this guy was familiar with that particular plant itself. "No. Its not Marijuana. Just stuff, I swear I can see a tree in the first floor. Look just send someone out here and check it out."

The pencil missed the tile and fell bouncing off the keyboard, a loud sound that made Faith jump slightly. "Okay, so if its that weird why havent you called the police yet? They are there to help you feel safe and to make sure people dont...grow things in their home that they arent supposed to." Something like muffled cursing sounded in the background along with "see told you we should have called the cops." Before the mans shaky voice was back on the phone. "Look just send someone out okay, this is a good neighborhood and if people start growing shit here over night who knows what will happen next. Like at the Carnival." Oh great, the guy was pulling a guilt trip. With another sigh, Faith swung her feet off the desk and sat up straight, as if the posture would help her deal with these lovely information providers, a.k.a., tippers. "Alright sir, Well send someone there right away. Would you like to meet the reporter when they get there? "

And as Faith expected there was a pause and a very firm "No, I dont want my name anywhere near this" Bitting her lip, she nodded and jutted down the address. It wasnt all that far away, she could probably swing by after work. See what kind of a herb garden had this guys boxers in a twist. "Alright sir, thank you so much for bringing this to our attention, Have a nice and ...Safe day." Hanging up the phone never felt so good. Allowing herself one more loud sigh, Faith stood up, stretching her back as she went to dig out a digital camera out of the equipment locker. Even if this does turn out into just a whack job with a plant fetish, she could at least take pretty pictures to cover her cubicle with. Apparently according to her editor, it lacked personality, and a shoe calendar wasnt enough. Figures.