New Hope City.

What a shit-hole.

25 years ago the crime was so bad here that the politicians decided the best solution was to tear the whole place down, and start again. Rebuild and get the wealthy elite to buy-in. The problem was that the only wealthy elite who could afford to move into New Hope were the five Crime Bosses who now own just about every square inch of the city.

The politicians wont ever admit they fucked the whole thing up, and so long as the Crime Syndicate doesn’t do anything big that gets into the papers, then the politicians and the Police are happy to look the other way.

Besides, the rent the government gets from the syndicates is too valuable to let the Police fuck-up the status quo by arresting anyone too powerful.

And that’s where I sit… between the cops and the Crime Syndicate. Doing what the cops can’t do because their hands are tied, and taking care of things the Syndicate doesn’t want to have their grubby little finger-prints all over.

I’m everyone’s “go-to” guy, a regular Mr Fixit. Peachy.

… New Hope City… what a shit-hole.

Its 9pm and the girls are out working the streets already. They all know me, hey – everyone knows me, everyone knows my name. People call me Tyler… the people who want to keep their teeth call me Tyler…

“Hiya Artemis!”

… Everyone except Ginger. She’s a good girl, with a heart of gold, but her cunt is not quite so expensive.

“Hiya Babe, You know I told you not to call me that?”

“Awww, c’mon Artie, it such a pretty name” she purrs.

“Yeah… ‘pretty’ – that’s just what I need.” I growl.

I’m a Cleaner for the Crime Syndicate and I got a fuckin’ girl’s name? – Peachy.

I fucking hate my name.

“Maybe your mum had a sense of humour y’know” Ginger replies.

“Yeah… my mum names me after the Greek Goddess of childbirth? Fucking hilarious – she sure got me laughing … on the inside! You know the drill – call me Tyler. So wassup?”

“Not much, slow night. You working too?” she asks.

“Its night-time isn’t it, you ever see me out and about during the day?” I reply.

“Hah, I dunno, I only come out at night too!” she laughed “By the way, some broad was asking for you earlier.”

“Did she say what it was about?” I asked.

“What do I know what she wants you for, do I look like your fuckin’ secretary Artie?” She blew smoke when she said it. Damn she was hot.

“Nah, you don’t. Besides you know I can’t afford a secretary…” I replied as I walked away.

“I know you can’t afford me, that’s for damned sure” she laughed “I’ll see ya round Artemis”

10pm… my office is in a basement in a shitty building in Ballow Street. At least its quiet.

The first thing I notice is the perfume. It snakes its way through my front door 10 seconds before she walks in.

Then I notice her tits. What a rack. Geez louise, they arrived 5 seconds after the perfume and 5 seconds before the rest of her!

“Mr Jones, I’ve been told that you’re the type of person that can find things…” She had a voice that could melt chocolate.

… I bet she fucks like a rabbit too.

“Sure babe, watcha lost?”

Read Part 2 here



Joined December 2007

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Artist's Description

Artemis Jones is a “Cleaner” for the crime bosses of New Hope City.

Think Film-Noir meets Sam Peckinpah.

Warning: Adult Content & Graphic Violence

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