Tuesday, December 21, 2021
Friday, December 17, 2021
Thursday, December 16, 2021
Random excerpts from non-existent stories V
Angelo Bellucci sat in that oversized lobby, with its extra high ceilings, waiting to be seen by a long time associate on the tenth floor. He was dressed in business attire and looked every bit the image of an honest working man. If only people knew...
"He will see you now" said the young, pretty receptionist.
Angelo smiled and nodded. "Thank you" he said making his way up the long, winding staircase.
Normally, Ange was an elevator guy, but this trip was special. So he put in the extra work.
The secretary waved him through and he opened the door to start this most eventful meeting.
"Angie!" said the keenly dressed, well-groomed older man standing behind the large desk.
"This place looks bigger every time I come here!" Angelo said as he gave the office a good once over.
The older man, Carmine Ruffino, owned a well-established construction company and took pride in having the biggest office in the building. The view over the city was nothing short of photographic bliss. He walked over to greet his sometimes-business partner.
He gives Angelo a bear hug and pats him three times on the back. "Still strong as a bull I see!"
"I think it's the cardio!" Angelo said with a huge smile.
"Come on, sit down, let's talk." said Carmine.
The older man returns to his big leather office chair and Angelo sits in front of his desk on a slightly lesser than but by no means flimsy seat. They share a brief uncomfortable silence.
"What's in the bag?" asked Carmine.
"Well, that's why I'm here." Angelo returned.
He reached down grabbing the fancy suede bowling bag and placed it on the man's desk.
"I love gifts!"
"Maybe you should look inside before sayin' that..." Angelo suggested.
The grey-haired gent stood, unzipped the bag and viewed its contents. His face blanked. He stood for several seconds without saying a word, staring down into that bowling bag.
"Ya know, you don't look like a man ready to die." Carmine said calmly.
"It was a very tough position you put me in. This wasn't done without a lot of thought."
In the bag was the severed head of Carmine's consigliere; Adolpho Jilani.
"If you think you're just walking out of here, you're out of your fucking mind!" said the now angry Carmine.
"This is no time for hurt feelings. It's not personal. Just business." Angelo explained.
Carmine ripped his top drawer open and before Angelo could blink the older man had a gun, complete with silencer, aimed right at him. His face of course. Why bother with body shots when you gotta get it done right the first time?
"I'd hold that thought..." Angelo said with confidence.
"I could have every trace of your DNA scrubbed from this entire building in six hours. Why shouldn't I paint my carpet with your fuckin' brains?"
Angelo looked at his watch. "Might wanna check your email."
The older man now visibly incensed. "You think this is a fucking game??"
"Can't say I didn't tell ya..."
The man stood, his hand shaking as he held that gun on Ange. He could taste it. Sinking three or four slugs into Angie's head would feel so good right now. And he nearly did it, but he had to make sure he didn't fall into any other traps. He sat down, gun still trained on his one-time friend, to check that email.
There was a video file in his inbox. He looked up at Angelo.
"Open it."
Carmine downloaded the file. It was a cell phone video taken in what looked like a dark warehouse lit by spotlights. On the zoom in, he could see three headless bodies tied to folding metal chairs.
"So you took out my whole top tier. Why are you doing this?"
"Keep watchin'..." Angelo said with no emotion.
Carmine continued the video. He now saw his wife and two daughters blind-folded and tied to the chairs of their dining room table. They were all sniffling and obviously scared. Carmine slams his fist down onto the desk and jumps from his seat putting that gun once again in Angelo's face.
"How many more bags am I gonna have to fill today Carmine?"
Tears now welling up in the older man's eyes. "I will skin you alive, you motherless fuck!!"
Angelo stands from his chair and walks towards the door, stopping and turning around to face his new subordinate.
"The previous arrangement we had? It's dead. You answer to me now."
Carmine stood trembling, boiling in rage as Angelo walked free from that fine corner office.
"He will see you now" said the young, pretty receptionist.
Angelo smiled and nodded. "Thank you" he said making his way up the long, winding staircase.
Normally, Ange was an elevator guy, but this trip was special. So he put in the extra work.
The secretary waved him through and he opened the door to start this most eventful meeting.
"Angie!" said the keenly dressed, well-groomed older man standing behind the large desk.
"This place looks bigger every time I come here!" Angelo said as he gave the office a good once over.
The older man, Carmine Ruffino, owned a well-established construction company and took pride in having the biggest office in the building. The view over the city was nothing short of photographic bliss. He walked over to greet his sometimes-business partner.
He gives Angelo a bear hug and pats him three times on the back. "Still strong as a bull I see!"
"I think it's the cardio!" Angelo said with a huge smile.
"Come on, sit down, let's talk." said Carmine.
The older man returns to his big leather office chair and Angelo sits in front of his desk on a slightly lesser than but by no means flimsy seat. They share a brief uncomfortable silence.
"What's in the bag?" asked Carmine.
"Well, that's why I'm here." Angelo returned.
He reached down grabbing the fancy suede bowling bag and placed it on the man's desk.
"I love gifts!"
"Maybe you should look inside before sayin' that..." Angelo suggested.
The grey-haired gent stood, unzipped the bag and viewed its contents. His face blanked. He stood for several seconds without saying a word, staring down into that bowling bag.
"Ya know, you don't look like a man ready to die." Carmine said calmly.
"It was a very tough position you put me in. This wasn't done without a lot of thought."
In the bag was the severed head of Carmine's consigliere; Adolpho Jilani.
"If you think you're just walking out of here, you're out of your fucking mind!" said the now angry Carmine.
"This is no time for hurt feelings. It's not personal. Just business." Angelo explained.
Carmine ripped his top drawer open and before Angelo could blink the older man had a gun, complete with silencer, aimed right at him. His face of course. Why bother with body shots when you gotta get it done right the first time?
"I'd hold that thought..." Angelo said with confidence.
"I could have every trace of your DNA scrubbed from this entire building in six hours. Why shouldn't I paint my carpet with your fuckin' brains?"
Angelo looked at his watch. "Might wanna check your email."
The older man now visibly incensed. "You think this is a fucking game??"
"Can't say I didn't tell ya..."
The man stood, his hand shaking as he held that gun on Ange. He could taste it. Sinking three or four slugs into Angie's head would feel so good right now. And he nearly did it, but he had to make sure he didn't fall into any other traps. He sat down, gun still trained on his one-time friend, to check that email.
There was a video file in his inbox. He looked up at Angelo.
"Open it."
Carmine downloaded the file. It was a cell phone video taken in what looked like a dark warehouse lit by spotlights. On the zoom in, he could see three headless bodies tied to folding metal chairs.
"So you took out my whole top tier. Why are you doing this?"
"Keep watchin'..." Angelo said with no emotion.
Carmine continued the video. He now saw his wife and two daughters blind-folded and tied to the chairs of their dining room table. They were all sniffling and obviously scared. Carmine slams his fist down onto the desk and jumps from his seat putting that gun once again in Angelo's face.
"How many more bags am I gonna have to fill today Carmine?"
Tears now welling up in the older man's eyes. "I will skin you alive, you motherless fuck!!"
Angelo stands from his chair and walks towards the door, stopping and turning around to face his new subordinate.
"The previous arrangement we had? It's dead. You answer to me now."
Carmine stood trembling, boiling in rage as Angelo walked free from that fine corner office.
Random excerpts from non-existent stories IV
It was true; the desert got cold at night.
The 1967 Camaro idled with a strong purr while Carson walked to the trunk. Muffled yelling and the sounds of kicking grew louder. Agitation. It hit every person different. He opened the hatch, looking into the dark hiding place that was a temporary home for this "outstanding issue"...
He leaned in and removed the gag from his passenger. The still-bound man gasped for air while trying to move himself away from his captor. Carson knew there was no other way.
"If you're gonna kill me, then just fucking do it already!" said the worn out trunk inhabitor.
"I'm gonna let you choose how this goes." Carson said to his guest.
The man kept steady eye contact as he pulled himself closer to the opening.
"Road's about ten miles that way. El Paso is a few more beyond that. Sound fair?"
The trunk rider raises himself to a sitting position as he thinks it over.
"Ain't like I gotta say in this..."
"Sure ya do. You could walk out of here and keep on living your life any way you see fit."
"Or?"
"Or... I could feed you to the coyotes. Right here. Right now."
The man knows his only play is to walk away from this without bitterness, OR half the money in that over-stuffed duffle bag that was once his. Decisions, decisions...
"Help me outta here..." he said as his soon-to-be ex-friend grabbed him by the left arm, tugging upward.
"You gonna cut these?" he asked referring to his wrist and ankle rope bindings.
Carson obliged. He then reached into his pocket and handed the man a small wad of cash.
"You got three hours before sunrise. Make 'em count." Carson said closing the trunk and walking to the driver's door of that rumbling muscle car.
The man took a few steps, settling in to his new limp when he turned and looked his former friend in the eye.
"Almost forgot" Carson said pulling his .38 - sending a round into the man's knee.
"Now, we're even..."
The 1967 Camaro idled with a strong purr while Carson walked to the trunk. Muffled yelling and the sounds of kicking grew louder. Agitation. It hit every person different. He opened the hatch, looking into the dark hiding place that was a temporary home for this "outstanding issue"...
He leaned in and removed the gag from his passenger. The still-bound man gasped for air while trying to move himself away from his captor. Carson knew there was no other way.
"If you're gonna kill me, then just fucking do it already!" said the worn out trunk inhabitor.
"I'm gonna let you choose how this goes." Carson said to his guest.
The man kept steady eye contact as he pulled himself closer to the opening.
"Road's about ten miles that way. El Paso is a few more beyond that. Sound fair?"
The trunk rider raises himself to a sitting position as he thinks it over.
"Ain't like I gotta say in this..."
"Sure ya do. You could walk out of here and keep on living your life any way you see fit."
"Or?"
"Or... I could feed you to the coyotes. Right here. Right now."
The man knows his only play is to walk away from this without bitterness, OR half the money in that over-stuffed duffle bag that was once his. Decisions, decisions...
"Help me outta here..." he said as his soon-to-be ex-friend grabbed him by the left arm, tugging upward.
"You gonna cut these?" he asked referring to his wrist and ankle rope bindings.
Carson obliged. He then reached into his pocket and handed the man a small wad of cash.
"You got three hours before sunrise. Make 'em count." Carson said closing the trunk and walking to the driver's door of that rumbling muscle car.
The man took a few steps, settling in to his new limp when he turned and looked his former friend in the eye.
"Almost forgot" Carson said pulling his .38 - sending a round into the man's knee.
"Now, we're even..."
Friday, December 10, 2021
Tuesday, December 7, 2021
Monday, December 6, 2021
Sunday, December 5, 2021
Wednesday, December 1, 2021
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)
-
Everything's a lie. Nothing is real. And it all ends in tragedy.
-
Grand Island, Nebraska - March 28, 1989. Well this is fucked. Two bodies on the floor: one temporarily unconscious - the other, signifi...
