The junky sat on the hard wooden bench head on his chest; leaning precariously to the left I patiently waited for him to take the short fall to the pavement beneath him.
Five minutes; fucking five minutes of my valuable time; I kicked the fucking ass in the side of the head; he hit the ground hard with a puff of breath jolted from his body making a white cloud in the cold air. Rolling over his eyes partially opened and he found my eyes a short distance from his face. His mouth made a perfect “O” and without a surprise a shallow “OH” sound escaped his lips. “You stupid fuck! Where’s my money!” I shouted in his face. He looked confused; then he looked dead as I put a .45 round between his eyes; a second round closely followed that one made a nice little round hole in his forehead. My ears rang from the point blank shots. “Fuck you!” I said on deafened ears.
What the fuck are we doing giving money to these fucking junkies; we think we will get our money back with interest? Fucking crazy; it’s fucking crazy. We give them a hundred bucks and in a week I spend another .50 cents to put a bullet in their heads; a fucking $1 if I decide to double tap the fucks. What a business…… Then there’s the fucking hookers; yeah loan them a couple hundred bucks to buy their way out of their contract; sure a couple hundred will do it. Who you trying to fucking kid? You think a six hundred dollar a night hooker is going to give you two hundred bucks and you’re just going to let the bitch walk; I don’t think so; but the man still gives them the money? I don’t get it. I show up after seven days and demand our money with the heavy interest. The bitch’s get all teary eyed and want to suck my dick; I’m not there to have my dick sucked I’m here for our money. I rip their clothes off and find every dollar they have hidden in panties and bras; I ram my hands into soft spots and retrieve those hidden dollars too; they scream or fight I break throats and crush pipes; I want our money.
I push to the boss to make the pimps pay but he says it’s not their problem; what the fuck? My job is to collect monies owed and deal out punishment for nonpayment. I’m going through a box and a half of ammo a week; my fucking fingers smell of stinking bad pussy; I’ve about had it with this shit, a guy can only kill and maim so many people a month without getting caught at some point. There’s going to be a point where some slick dick'd punk cop is gonna hear one of those owing making noise before I put a round in their head or break a pipe and come running; then there’s going to be a dead cop and the place is going to go crazy with a dead cop on the street.
My time on this job is definitely coming to an end; I’m not going to be the fall guy here. I gotta come up with a plan.
I decide I’d better talk with the boss Tony Montana; yep that’s his name; it’s not his real name you dork, it’s just what the big boy’s call him. I guess he came out of Montana and must have impressed someone in the upper ranks. I think he’s a dumb ass and gonna get me caught one of these days. I tell him the cops are all over the place and the papers are calling our little clean up of the neighborhood a killing field of organized crime. I complain that I’m gonna get caught with all the heat and new man power they are throwing at my killing spree. Tony says he’s got it all under control and we’re gonna start to get some of our money back; I’m just glad the boy’s didn’t see me roll my eyes.
2am and I got my gun a few inches from a junkies head pulling hard on the trigger when my phone rings in my pocket. “OH what the fuck!” escapes my lips as I release the trigger. Holding the junky tight I dig and pull out my phone pressing it to my ear. “What” I whisper. “You got a meeting with Dominic at 8am in his Office downtown tomorrow; don’t be late” Click in my ear; I look at the junky and pushing him away put three quick ones in his forehead. “Now you’re talking!” Dominic is the big guy running the show all over the South end.
“You’ve been busy” Dominic says over his cigar and bourbon. “Yeah I’m covered in assholes blood and bad pussy, but I’m not getting our money back” I say with venom. “I think we are going to have to change that” he says picking up the desk phone. Murmuring into the hand set he looks at me across the huge desk and waves me out the door. “Carl will be talking to you shortly; you take the day off and go see a movie or something” he says with a wave as I clear the door and head for the stairs.
I don’t think I’m gonna be seeing Tony anymore; “Good fucking riddance fuck face!” I say below my breath riding the elevator to the bottom. I go out and down the street catching a cab back down to the south side and grab a couple beers in one of the cheap joints. No one gives me a glance; tomorrow’s gonna be a new game.
7am and my phone rings its Carl; “I’ve got a job for you today; we’re gonna get some of our money back.” A smile crosses my face; it’s show time.
The plan is they get the front guard outta the way and I go into the building and up to the third floor where the pimps been working out of. Kind of like an office for the spread of bad pussy; this is gonna be a blood bath.
I wait just down the street leaning against one of those Star bucks big painted windows looking down to my left and head that way as I see two cars pull up in front of the 915 building double parking and blocking traffic. My timing is perfection as usual and I make the front door just as the door guard goes into the back of one of the waiting cars; he didn’t have a chance to make any noise.
Elevator to the third floor the whole floor is taken up by a group of ten pimps running two hundred and fifty girls; this is the heart of the operation and all the money comes into this building from runners all night and day. It’s a 24hr a day operation and there are people everywhere; I push through the double glass doors and walk up to the reception desk; the skinny pretty girl looks up and with a smile asks who I’m here to see. I dump a round right between her eyes; not a sound with the new silencer spun tight to the treads of the barrel; her head snaps back and she spins twice around on the swivel seat before sliding off behind the desk her head gushing blood like a rain bird sprinkler.
Pushing through the main door I burn through magazine after magazine clearing my way to what I’ve been told would be the depository for all the money coming in; my surprise is that they don’t seem to have any interior security and my barrel is burning white hot.
Big guy looks at me as I turn the corner and walk with a smoking gun bleaching white smoke from its barrel; he steps back as two rounds catch in mid chest and he goes down without a sound in front of the double glazed glass doors. This has to be the place; I push the right door open and step into a room maybe twenty by fifteen, tables covered in money. Two guys and a gal are tying bundles of twenties together amongst stacks and stacks of cash. Two rounds each; fucking bitch tries to run but there’s no place to go she rounds the back corner and comes around skidding to a halt as she realizes that she just started to come my way. I’ve never had to make a shot over four feet before especially with a bulbous silencer in the way. Three rounds she’s down but making a ton of noise; screaming like she’s been shot; at least four time actually. I place the fucking smoking barrel against her forehead and pull the trigger twice; ahhh silence.
Pulling out my phone I push the call button and tell them it’s as clear as it’s going to be and bring extra bags. Our guys pour through the doors dragging stacks of money across tables and into large bags; this is a haul.
Carl tells me I’m on vacation and to go to Hawaii until I’m called for; it’s been five months and I’m thinking I just might be retired.
Slurping a beer in a Waikiki beach bar this fucking local calls me out for sitting in the local’s area; I try to make peace but the fuck stick isn’t having any of it. I pull my piece laying it up against his left temple; to my surprise he just looks at me raising his ham sized hand to the side of his head; so naturally I put one perfectly between his narrow pig like eyes.
It would seem my retirement will be sitting in a Hawaii prison for a piece of shit murder charge. Ninety nine years should be enough to do it without any good time or parole. Fuck me, this sucks.
From the Ramblings.
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