(fiction) by dannye Fri Dec 01 2000 at 4:43:21
When she hung up the phone, Mona squatted down in front of Deck. Her short skirt skated up her thighs and Deck realized it was the Sharon Stone Syndrome, staring him right in the face. As his eyes remained on the prize, he said, "Mona, I could've made you Mrs. C. Deckard Coffield. And, guess what? The ring is in my right hand jacket pocket. I've just been too damn selfish. You know how I am, honey? Let's walk out of here and find a JP and have some kids. Want to?"

Mona inched up closer to Deck, where her face was just a breath away. He had to take his eyes off of the snapper and look her in the eyes. "Deck, you silly little man. Don't you realize that all the times I was lying there screaming, 'Oh, God. You're killing me with your huge member! I can't take it!!' that I was filing my nails and checking for messages on my answer phone? And, let me ask you this: Do your socks feel wet right now?"

This was the last straw for Deck. This two-timing bitch was pissing on his shoes. As he damn near sliced his wrists trying to extricate himself from the barbed wire handcuffs, the SWAT team came in through every window and door in the joint.

Mona slipped as she tried to jump up, and landed face first in a pile of her own piss. ("Serves the bitch right," Deck thought to himself.) She blubbered, "So that's who you called on my phone, you asswipe!" As the goombas tossed their guns down, Deck said, "Over here, my friends. Cut me loose and I'll tell you a tale you won't believe."

The head dick of the SWAT team came over and took off the duct tape and barbed wire, and said, "Looks like you got some liquid on your loafers, buddy."

Deck said, "Whassamatter? You ain't ever had anybody piss on your leg and tell you it's raining?"

While they were laughing their asses off about this, Deck grabbed the 9mm from the SWAT team leader and shakily pointed it at everyone in the room, back and forth. "Stand right there for just a minute while I go out and get my clean shoes from the car. OK? This is pretty fucking important to me, so I wouldn't get edgy if I were you."

He ran out the warehouse door and jumped into the puke-stained limo and hauled ass. The SWAT team had their hands full with the high-ranking mobsters in tow, so they just let him go.

Deck drove like Teddy Kennedy on a rainy night with an intern, and as soon as he realized no one was following, he pulled into the first alley he saw. He jumped out of the limo and opened the trunk. There it was. The CD was still there. As he reached for it, he also notice a duffel bag stuffed into the back of the trunk. "What ho!" he said.

The duffel bag was full of wrinkled, used Benjamins. There were around a hundred bundles of a hundred bills each. And, tucked inside the top bundle, there was a phone number.

He left the limo there and caught the first cab he could find. The driver asked, "Where to, Mister I Just Left a Fucking Expensive Car in an Alley?"

"Am I paying you to ask about my life or drive my ass somewhere, you cock sucker?"

"Well, I guess that depends on how much you're paying, don't it?"

Deck pulled out two Benjamins and said, "Will this get you to shut the fuck up and hand me your cell phone, my Brother from Another Mother?"

Deck dialed the number on the slip of paper. The voice on the other line said, "Who is this?"

"Never mind who the fuck this is; who are you?"

"Mr. Coffield? Is that you? We really need to talk in person, right now!"

It wasn't Kim Li's voice, but it was an Oriental male. Deck was confused, but he was also rich as Donald Trump, so he was feeling pretty full of himself. "I'm not in the mood for talking right now. I'm in the mood for leaving town. So here's the deal, Mr. Kim Li's boot lackey: You have this cell phone number. You may call me at any time. However, if you call me to tell me anything except, 'Hello, Mr. Coffield. I hope you are having a good day,' I will turn this CD over to the FBI and all of your little yellow asses will be cooked like some flied lice. Got it, Pearl Harbor?"

All Deck heard was a knowing sigh on the other end. He told the cabbie to take him to the airport and gave him another couple of Benjamins for his phone and a tip.

Back . . . / . . . Forward

Page category:

I like it! This writeup has been cooled by:  
Morgon77X 1 C!

Log in or register to write something here or to contact authors.