Des Moines, Iowa
[I walk into the crowded bar and look quickly around. After a few moments, I spot Jake Goyne sitting in a small alcove in the corner of the room. He greets me as I make my way over to him. As I sit down, he takes a swig from a large bottle.]
You want to know about my story?
Yes.
Everyone has a story. What makes mine so important?
You lived in Faith, South Dakota.
And.
You were one of the Faith Brigands.
What kind of daft name is that?
Sorry.
[He takes a knife from out of his coat and places it with casualness on the table.]
Listen. I've had a good day. I don't want it spoiled by having to relieve my past. Now get out of here before I turn your eyebrows into no-brows. Get me?
Not really, no.
[He leans forward and presses the knife to my forehead. I look around nervously, but everyone else in the room is ever out cold or hasn't noticed. I shouldn't have come close to last call.]
Do you get me now?
Yes.
Good. Now go home.
[I get up hurriedly and leave.]
[Later]
[Determined to get a good interview, I follow Jake home later. I approach him again as he unlocks his door.]
Jake-
[I jerk instinctively as a knife misses me by a hairs-breadth and hits a lamppost behind me with a metallic clang.]
Get the fuck out of here.
Jake, listen-
No, you listen. I don't need to relive those moments. I've spent far too long recovering. I don't want to have to go through it all again.
My boss wants an interview. I need this pay rise!
Well you can tell your boss up yours.
For heavens sake-
There's no such thing as heaven.
[He unlocks the door and goes in. I rush to follow and stick my foot in the door frame as he slams it. There is a crunch.]