“Hey shit-head, open yer fuckin’ eyes!”
Man, my head hurts. What the fuck is going on? Oh yeah… the kid. What’d she say?
I’m gonna open my eyes, it had better be dark outside, this is gonna hurt. There’s some gorilla standing over me. He’s kicking me in the guts. That’s not very nice.
Mental note to mention it to him later.
“Wake up you sad sack of shit, its paaaa-arty tiiiime!”
Really? I sure don’t feel like it.
Magilla drags me to my feet. Oh… now I remember, I’m in that shit-hole hotel room. It smells of perfume. Perfume and something not … good. “Hey, you’re awake! Good, you and me are gonna have some fun tough-guy!”
Who is this moron, and why the fuck is he pointing my Ruger at me? Oh, he must be the guy who hit me. Really, I gotta talk to him about his interpersonal skills. I suspect he doesn’t know who I am.
“The Lady told me to get rid of you quick, but I’m gonna have a bit of fun first” he snarls.
Something smells very very wrong in here. Where the fuck is that girl? Ohhhh, there she is. I’m beginning to wish I hadn’t looked around.
“Yeah shit-head, I gutted her for all those little baggies of Bolivian Marching Powder we made her swallow three days ago” says the cro-magnon in front of me.
Man, that’s a lot of blood on the floor, its gonna take me ages to clean that up. Its time for me to get with the game. I shake my head until the fog clears.
“Hey Magilla, if you’re gonna go around killing kids, you got to remember a couple of things” I tell him.
“Really?” he says, “like what, arsehole?”
“Well, there’s two things you forgot to do dickhead. One – you left the safety ‘on’…”
As he looks down at my Ruger I knock it out of his hand – clear across the room, then smoothly pull my 8-inch stilleto out of my sleeve and drive it up under his chin through the roof of his mouth into his skull and out the top of his head, blood goes everywhere. It makes me happy on the inside – red is such a pretty colour!
“… and two – always check for knives!”
I pull the blade out of his skull and let him fall to the ground where I stomp the fuck out of his face until it resembles a meat-lovers pizza with waaay too much special-sauce.
It takes a few minutes, but its important to get satisfaction from one’s work, and this is very very satisfying. Not surprisingly, its also a lot of fun.
I start whistling “Somewhere over the rainbow” in time with my foot.
A couple of hours later, I’ve cleaned the room, and loaded the two bodies into the boot of my car. I’ll put them in cold storeage. There’s a new construction site in Queen Street, and they’re pouring the foundation next week. No-one will find them under 30,000 cubic feet of concrete.
Thank fuck for the building industry, huh?
So Miss Big-Tits used the kid as a drug mule to bring drugs across the border.
Nice move. You gotta love a chick with both morals and class.
This aint gonna make the Drug Syndicate happy. Someone moving in on their turf. Stupid shit like this could give New Hope City a bad name. Shit like this is gonna get into the papers, and that is the one thing nobody around here wants.
Not the syndicates, not the Cops, and most of all – not the Politicians.
I’m gonna have to put in some overtime on this. I’m gonna have to speak to the head of the Drug Syndicate. Dimitri is gonna be pissed.
Why do I have the feeling that psycho bitch aint gonna pay either.
Fuck, now I gotta make me a whole new rule… If the client has big tits and blonde hair – then get the money up front.
Artemis Jones is a “Cleaner” for the crime bosses of New Hope City.
Think Film-Noir meets Sam Peckinpah.