And like the small field mice that predatory birds were wont to eat, Salem had no chance of escaping Joe's metaphorical gross bird foot grip.<span style="font-style: italic">"This is an awful idea,"</span>Salem thought.<span style="font-style: italic">"This is an awful idea and I am an idiot for going along with it."</span>But it was far too late to pass it up. He was caught, and was entirely under Joe's will. Not really though. He was just humoring him, and part of him didn't believe the disks would even do a damned thing. He casually strolled over to another computer and sat down at it, waiting for the old, dying machine to start up. The poor thing was probably at least ten years old, judging by the horrible sputtering sounds the fan was making and the horrifically early-2000's OS design.<br/><br/>Salem preferred to use a computer like a normal person, so instead of going under the desk, he just nudged the button to open the disk drive and waited for it to open. It took a moment and needed to be nudged out the rest of the way, but once it was ready to receive the gift of a busted as hell CD, Salem opened the mislabeled container and gently set the spyware-infected disk in. It lined up as one would expect a CD to, and when he pushed in the drive, he put his attention on the screen. There was certainly some sort of effect, but who the hell knew if it would work or not.<br/><br/>"I'm flattered," Salem flatly replied. In his humble opinion, he was worth at least three and a half friends. At<span style="font-style: italic">least.</span>No matter what sort of dumb bullshit Joe came up with, he wasn't hard to rope into it. "And fine, fine. I know a place that doesn't completely suck. Wanna bring Mary?" He asked. Leaving his sister out of it would've made him feel bad, even if her entire existence was kept fueled by mooching off of him. Salem was far too charitable, honestly.