Amanda Young and Mark Hoffman were cruising along in Hoffman's car through the suburbs of the city to Jigsaw's hiding place. Their informant, and player for their next game, Adam Stanheight, sat quietly in the back. He had no idea what Jigsaw had in store for him.
Amanda and Hoffman were discussing the shootout from earlier with the guy who was protecting another victim, the latter of which was now sleeping quietly in the trunk. Their attacker had shot wildly at them, and all shots had missed. Hoffman had dismissed it as nothing, seeing such things all the time in his line of work, but Amanda was still processing what had happened, still somewhat in shock.
"Alright here's an example," Hoffman continued. "So I know this one cop, Grimes, and one day he was going after this one asshole. They were having a shootout in a narrow alleyway. Grimes was out in the open, and the other guy just unloaded on him with a submachine gun, and all shots missed. Grimes takes two shots, two of them hit him, and he goes down, still alive but down. I mean it was just Grimes and this guy."
"What's your point?" Amanda asked.
"My point is this stuff happens. I mean it's rare and it's freaky but it does happen."
Amanda huffed, her eyes still on the road as she was driving. "Look you've got your view on this, and I've got mine. You don't think it's a big deal, more power to ya. But if you ask me, this is proof that God fucking exists, and he's trying to tell us something."
"Yeah?" Hoffman scoffed. "What what do ya think God is trying to tell us?"
"I think he's telling us to give it up."
Hoffman's stopped smiling suddenly and looked at her with a more serious look. "Give up? Wh-what do you mean?"
"I mean that's it for me," Amanda explained. "When we get home, I'm retiring, getting my ass out of this whole thing."
"Woah, woah hey now-"
"Don't talk to me like that."
"Just hold on a second here-"
"Shut the fuck up!"
"You're gonna let a little fucking thing like this stop you?" Hoffman snapped.
"Yes I am," Amanda replied, her eyes never leaving the road. "We're gonna take these guys in, and then I'm telling John I'm through."
"Well are ya gonna tell him why?"
"I will, don't worry."
"Yeah? And I'll bet you a thousand dollars he laughs his ass off."
"Really don't care if he does. But you know what? He's not the kind of guy to judge. You know him. He's into a lot of religious crap and proverbs and shit."
Hoffman sighed deeply, leaned back comfortably in his seat, and rubbed his temples. It was then that he noticed how quiet Adam was being. Adam had not said a word since the shooting.
"Yo, Adam. What do you think of this whole thing?"
"Man, I don't even have an opinion," Adam replied with a shrug. Clearly he was still nervous about being in the car with these two thugs.
Hoffman turned over in his seat to face Adam, his gun still in his hand.
"Come on now," Hoffman insisted. "You gotta have an opinion here. I mean… look simple yes or no. Do you think God just came down from Heaven and stopped-"
BANG!
Blood splashed all over the inside of the car.
"WOAH!" Hoffman shouted.
"WOAH! JESUS CHRIST!" Amanda screamed. "WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT?"
The two glanced over all the blood covering the car and their clothes, the brain pieces in Amanda's hair.
"Aw crap," Hoffman gulped. "I shot Adam in the face."
"WHY THE FUCK DID YOU DO THAT?" Amanda screamed.
"I didn't mean to it was an accident."
"Aw man oh shit oh shit- you fucking idiot!" Amanda banged her fist on the wheel before clawing some of the brain out of her hair.
"I said it was an accident! The car probably just went over a bump or something-"
"The fucking car did NOT hit any bumps!"
"Look I didn't mean to shoot him. The gun just went off. My finger slipped."
"Well look at this fucking mess! We're out on the street in broad daylight! Cops tend to notice shit like this! We gotta get off the road somewhere!"
"Okay, okay. Let's just take it to a friendly place."
"This is the suburbs, Mark! John doesn't have any friendly places down here!"
"Well Fuck! There's gotta be somewhere we can take this fucking car!"
"UGH!" Amanda growled and let out one more huff, clearly trying to get her thoughts together.
"Alright look, take out my phone," she finally said in a slightly calmer tone.
Hoffman looked at her with a confused look. "Phone?" he repeated.
"Get my fucking phone!" Amanda snapped back. "It's in my purse."
"Okay, okay," Hoffman replied as he grabbed the purse and went rummaging through it until he finally found Amanda's phone.
"Okay, now call my friend Cecil. He's in the contacts there somewhere."
Hoffman was about to comment on Amanda's history with Cecil, but decided against it, and just found him under the contacts and hit "call".
"Alright good now give it to me!" Amanda snapped, holding out her hand as Hoffman passed her the phone. She held it to her ear, her other hand still on the wheel.
"If Cecil's not home I don't know what the fuck we're gonna do because I don't have a whole lot of other friends who can-" she paused and turned to the road before she started talking again, this time in a more cheerful tone. Clearly Cecil had picked up. "Cecil hey! How are ya? Listen me and my friend here is in some serious fucking trouble here. We need to use your garage for a few hours. We're heading up to your place now. We'll be there in about ten minutes."
Author's Note: Just a funny thing I thought of when thinking about the whole series and the Jigsaw Gang. It just popped into my head that the characters of Saw fit the roles of Pulp Fiction's characters so well; Amanda as Jules, Hoffman as Vincent, Adam as Marvin, Jigsaw/John as Marsellus Wallace, Jill as Mia Wallace, Cecil as Jimmy, and maybe Dr. Gordon as Mr. Wolf. I didn't think it would be right to make Amanda sound exactly like Samuel L. Jackson because she's white, and woman (not trying to sound racist here or anything), so slight artistic liberties there.
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