(Mature. Needless to say.)
The day cracks open like any other day. Full of its usual bullsh!t, but unlike yesterday or the day before... Theres a f#cker with my name on the back of his head. My nick name is Dice.
Just Dice. Got it from a bad gambling habit
His is Vincent. Now before I start this long tale...you should know our....well...line of work.
Two men stand side by side in an abandoned warehouse. Hitmen. As one of them draws his gun and points to an un-named man tied to a chair.
"Turn the music on Vincent." One of them shouts cocking his gun.
As Vincent whips out a boombox, he smiles as it begins track 7.
Shot through the heart, and you're to blame
The two men unload. The slugs explode...and the poor bastard dies a gruesome death. A job well done.
A blood stained note pinned to the shot open chest of the rival gang banger left for whoever found him explaining Grandaddy meant business.
Dice then slaps Vincent across the back of the head as they leave.
"You played bon jovi? Are you kidding me. That wasnt what we agreed on! Should've shot the tape player or better yet myself!"
Those were the days. Heh.
Remember that gambling habit I mentioned? I used to play with our boss. I always won. He tried to cheat me once and I called him on it. It gained his respect, nobody questioned granddaddy.
He owed me a favor after that.
As that day went on, I took Vincent to Tommy's bar to "celebrate".
He sat down at the bar and ordered
a scotch. I let him have that, sometimes i wonder if i was too merciful...
Tommy had his bouncer come in and lock the door then that man left. I never saw him again.
Vincent looked back at me like the little $&amp;# he was and asked why? He knew what was coming.
Tommy told him I knew him like the back of my hand. The kind of knowledge you get only after working with someone for 10 years in the mafia.
I knew he had some 20 year old whore in jersey and a wife and three kids in the process of divorce.
I knew that he claimed to be insolvent and buying mazerttis for the aforementioned whore with blood money.
I knew all of his sh!t. So did his whore but she was already dispatched.
So Tommy just tells him this'll be over soon... Ill get the money from the bon jovi job and his family will pick up a nice insurance check on a forged will.
And the gifts that you gave to your whore will be sold at police auction for a benefit for toys for your kids.
So Tommy throws me a baseball bat from under the bar.
And I beat him to death. Felt his piss running all over the floor as his bowels and soul left. 10 years? Do I look like I cried for him? Do I look like I gave a sh!t?
He took it like a man. Only honorable thing he ever did.
After that I told tommy, I was leaving for awhile...didnt know when i'd be back.
And the night stretched on
I never came back to that god awful city. Until now.
BEGINNING OF AN END. Part 1.