FYI: Just in case some of you were wondering about why Spade was slaying crooked cops, the method to his madness will be revealed in this chapter! There is also mention of a character from the 2004 film adaptation in this chapter as well. And for those wondering about a certain anti-hero this is inspired from, say... Frank Castle, he'll show his face soon.

Shuri was face to face with an angry Spade.

"I won't even do this discussion here," said Spade. "Where's your car?"

The undercover federal agent pointed at a white Cutlass.

"Right there."

"Gimme your keys, now!" Spade demanded.

The two walked over to the car.

"Get in."

Shuri moved toward the passenger door.

"Not there," Spade said, shaking his head. He motioned to the trunk. "In here."

Shuri stood with his arms crossed, which only managed to anger the gunslinger. Spade drew his Colt Python.

"Get in, fucker!"

Shuri did as he was told. Spade got into the driver's seat and started the car up.

Minutes later, Spade opened the trunk.

"Get out." he ordered.

Shuri got out of the trunk.

"You know, when this is over, the feds are gonna kill you." Shuri hissed.

"I don't give a shit. I'm wanted dead, just consider me dead," Spade hissed back. He motioned to an abadoned old apartment complex. "Now shut the fuck up and get inside."

"No way, man!" yelled Shuri, who then found himself slipping into consciousness as he fell to the ground as Spade was holding his Desert Eagle at the barrel.

Shuri woke up, but was still in darkness. He heard a voice.

"Are you awake yet, friend?"

The darkness became light. Shuri realized he had been blindfolded, but he was still confused.

"How are you able to walk on the..." he started. "Wait a minute. Get me down!"

Spade pulled up a chair as he looked at Shuri, who was chained upside down.

"Like I said, we were gonna play a game of 20 questions," Spade said menacingly. "But there's a twist. The way you answer will determine what your future holds in store for you."

"I'm not telling you shit!" Shuri yelled. "Now get me the fuck down!"

Spade looked unconvinced.

"Well, that's just too bad, Agent Dave Shuri," Spade said with a mocking tone. "Because now you're gonna force me into an unnecessary situation. But don't worry, I won't kill you."

Spade let out a loud, shrill whistle.

"What are you doing, you sick fuck?!" Shuri screamed in fear.

"Keeping my promise, dude," Spade said. "I said I won't kill you. Well, I'm not."

"And just what the fuck do you mean by that?!" demanded Shuri.

Spade let out another shrill whistle. Waddling in was an adorable pit bull and her litter of puppies with a hungry look in their eyes.

"What the fuck I mean by that is, I'm not gonna kill you. But this really cute dog, she and her puppies are hungry. I figured instead of this canned shit I feed them, they need their first taste of meat," chuckled Spade. "So what I'm going to do if you don't tell me what I want to hear is turn you into kibble for my dogs..."

"Okay, okay!" yelled Shuri. "I'll tell you whatever you want! Whatever you want!"

"Okay, then," chuckled Spade. "Let's get started. What do you know about that scheme in St. Louis?"

"I don't know anything about that," replied Shuri. "Just that you killed a bunch of cops."

"Wrong answer, fucker." Spade growled silently.

He walked over to a counter in the kitchen and opened a can of dog food and grabbed a meat cleaver.

"This is that good shit, guys."

The five pit bulls sat and stared at Spade emptying the contents of the dog food can into a large dish. They walked over to their master and leapt with joyous hunger.

"Sit!" the master commanded. "Wait a minute, I'm not finished. My dogs deserve the best."

He looked over at Shuri, who released a sigh of relief.

"I guess they're not gonna eat me," he said happily. "I knew you were bluffing, you cop-killing piece of shit!"

Spade looked over at the cocky federal agent.

"You're right," he said. "But would you agree with me when I tell you that if you have a hand that causes you to sin, then you should cast it away in order to get to heaven?"

Shuri looked confused.

"What the--AAAAAH!"

"You must have forgotten about the meat cleaver in my hand," Spade said with a mixed look of malice and joy on his face while holding the agent's severed hand. "I said they needed their first taste of meat."

"You fucking---"

Spade chopped off the fingers of the severed hand, finely chopped them, and put them into the dog food dish.

"Bon appétit," Spade laughed. "Now, tell me what I want to fucking know!"

"No more, please!" screamed Shuri, as he held the blood fountain where his hand once was. "I'll tell you. Just please let me keep my other hand!"

"That's a good boy," said Spade with no remorse for his actions. "Sing for Papa."

Shuri's loose tongue gave Spade the information he needed to know. The entire FBI was involved in this affair.

"Wait a minute," Spade realized. "Let me guess. Lee Bernan copycats?"

"Wrong. Bernan controlled almost the entire black market," Shuri snarled. "You, on the other hand, found out about our 'extra money.'"

"Therefore, I'm a threat to you fucks," Spade said, coming to a conclusion. "And you can't risk me exposing you guys. Thanks for the info, you can go now."

"Good, I'm glad you figured it out." yelled Shuri. "Now get me down from here!"

Spade unchained the upside-down Shuri.

"By the way, Dave..."

"Huh?"

Shuri looked up at Spade, who was holding two opened cans of dog food when the contents spilled out on top of him.

"WHAT THE FUCK, MAN?!"

"I told you that I was gonna turn your ass into kibble."

"But…you said if I gave you answers, you'd let me go. I gave you what you wanted!"

Spade shook his head.

"Actually, I never said anything about letting you."

"You son of a bitch, Spade! I'll kill you!" yelled Shuri, picking up the meat cleaver with his good hand.

"One more question before you do anything," said Spade. "Did you run track or cross country?"

"Yeah. I was state champion in both track and cross country. Why?"

Spade let out another whistle. That's when the dogs let out fierce growls.

"HOLY SHIT!" yelled Shuri, running toward a window and crashing through it.

"OH, MY GODDDDDDDD!"

"Oops," chuckled Spade with fake absent-mindedness. "Did I forget to mention that we're up on the fifth floor?"

The dogs stopped at the window and stared at Shuri's splattered corpse on the pavement below. Spade walked out of the apartment and headed toward the car that once belonged to the federal agent, who was literally "all over the streets." Then he felt the cold barrel of a pistol being pressed to his back.

"Don't move, don't say anything."