Selective Sam

In the smoky haze of the digital speakeasies, there dwells a figure known as Selective Sam. He's the sort who'll only nibble on the bitter fruit, tossing aside the sweet grapes like they're yesterday's news. Sam's tastes are as discerning as a bootlegger's palate, his skepticism as sharp as a razor's edge. With a flick of his cyber cigarette, he dismisses anything that doesn't fit his narrow worldview, opting instead to swallow down the sour grapes of suspicion and mistrust. His cynicism is as thick as the fog rolling in off the harbor, enveloping him in a cloak of skepticism that's as impenetrable as a bank vault. In a world where truth is as rare as a clean cop, Selective Sam stands out like a sore thumb, a walking reminder of the dangers of seeing only what you want to see in the murky depths of the digital age.