Chapter
Two
Mr.
Spots
Al had hired another guy, one of many, I never found out his real name. He was a big hairy guy. He had small brown horns coming out of his head. He had a mouth full of sharp nasty teeth and claws to match. He was covered in purple spots, I almost said something, but thought it wise to keep quiet. He had come in to Al's office at about noon. I was screening the new "friends" to make sure they were qualified for the job. I just stood in the corner slurping on my scream berry shake with my .45 ready to go if there was trouble.
That day had pretty much crept along until a little green guy with one eye came in, he wasn't anything special, but he would do for crowd control. But when this guy came in I new we had something special. He had something about him that just stood out. He wasn't dressed very well. He had on and old looking hat, like one you'd find in a goodwill store. He also had on an old looking checkered golf shirt. That guy didn't have a fashion sense at all.
Al had started of by telling him for security reasons not to give any names. The guy was polite but at the same time he had a sense about him that wasn't right. They talked for a while or so. I didn't pay much attention to what they were saying. But somewhere in the conversation, Al had told him to get a pair of shades and a black suit, and just as all the others had give him a hundred for the threads. Al new he'd want in like the other guy had. It was one of those opportunities you only have once; it was too good to refuse.
"Thanks," the guy had answered. He was smiling and straightening his old checkered shirt.
"Don't mention it, now on another point, according to this rap sheet I got from my link in the feds you have a very impressive history behind you," Al smiled, "Murder in three states, five armed robberies, twelve assaults, I think you'll fit in just fine." Al was still sitting comfortably in his huge armchair.
"Thanks, but first, what are we lookin' at doing here," tall, blue, and hairy had asked. His smile slightly disappeared from his face. I could tell he had been fooled in a job before, and he wasn't going to let it happen again.
"It's a simple job, low security, big payoff, the best thing to come this way in a while," Al got up and walked over to the guy, I myself remained in the corner, "So you in or not?" Al had just litten up a cigar, my stomach started churning, right along with the shake. I was going to have to leave and get some air soon or Al's carpet was going to get uglier.
"Sounds good to me," he chuckled, "Just one other thing, what percentage of the loot am I looking at here?" He started smiling again.
"About, ten, if my math's correct, but I never finished no grade school or nothing, but I think that'll be about right."
"Ten percent of what, I don't do jobs for less than five hundred thousand," the guy had retorted.
"Oh, about ten percent of five million." By this point Al had a big smile on his face, "I take it you're in."
"Without a doubt." The blue guy had chuckled.
"Good, I thought you would, meet me in two days at old warehouse number eight on the outskirts of town, there aint no cops down there, so I'll see you there." Al said motioning to the door.
The blue guy had a smile so big plastered on his face, you could fit a boat in it. After that he left. The day once again crept by, the smell of Al's office was really getting to me, and I couldn't see how he could stand it. It was like living at a dump. I know some guy like that, but I am not one of those guys. Another guy came in. He was Al's son. He was also a friend of mine as well; Nice Guy Fungus was his name. And he was a tough momma jomma, if you catch my drift. Guys have run into him and never come back the same. They talked for what seemed like hours. I had to step outside before I puked from that smell; Al's cigars had never done me much good.
Outside the cool air felt good on my scaly skin. It was a needed relief to the putrid aroma of Al's cigars of death. It was pretty quiet outside. Some kids were playing in a parking lot across the street and some old ladies walked down the sidewalk.
After I pulled myself back together and calmed my gut back down I stepped back in. I walked down the hall, up the stairs, down another hall and back into the old office. When I got back into there Fungus was gone, and the two guys stood there. I wouldn't have believed you if told me they were there, I almost ran up to them and gave them both a big kiss.
Al had hired another guy, one of many, I never found out his real name. He was a big hairy guy. He had small brown horns coming out of his head. He had a mouth full of sharp nasty teeth and claws to match. He was covered in purple spots, I almost said something, but thought it wise to keep quiet. He had come in to Al's office at about noon. I was screening the new "friends" to make sure they were qualified for the job. I just stood in the corner slurping on my scream berry shake with my .45 ready to go if there was trouble.
That day had pretty much crept along until a little green guy with one eye came in, he wasn't anything special, but he would do for crowd control. But when this guy came in I new we had something special. He had something about him that just stood out. He wasn't dressed very well. He had on and old looking hat, like one you'd find in a goodwill store. He also had on an old looking checkered golf shirt. That guy didn't have a fashion sense at all.
Al had started of by telling him for security reasons not to give any names. The guy was polite but at the same time he had a sense about him that wasn't right. They talked for a while or so. I didn't pay much attention to what they were saying. But somewhere in the conversation, Al had told him to get a pair of shades and a black suit, and just as all the others had give him a hundred for the threads. Al new he'd want in like the other guy had. It was one of those opportunities you only have once; it was too good to refuse.
"Thanks," the guy had answered. He was smiling and straightening his old checkered shirt.
"Don't mention it, now on another point, according to this rap sheet I got from my link in the feds you have a very impressive history behind you," Al smiled, "Murder in three states, five armed robberies, twelve assaults, I think you'll fit in just fine." Al was still sitting comfortably in his huge armchair.
"Thanks, but first, what are we lookin' at doing here," tall, blue, and hairy had asked. His smile slightly disappeared from his face. I could tell he had been fooled in a job before, and he wasn't going to let it happen again.
"It's a simple job, low security, big payoff, the best thing to come this way in a while," Al got up and walked over to the guy, I myself remained in the corner, "So you in or not?" Al had just litten up a cigar, my stomach started churning, right along with the shake. I was going to have to leave and get some air soon or Al's carpet was going to get uglier.
"Sounds good to me," he chuckled, "Just one other thing, what percentage of the loot am I looking at here?" He started smiling again.
"About, ten, if my math's correct, but I never finished no grade school or nothing, but I think that'll be about right."
"Ten percent of what, I don't do jobs for less than five hundred thousand," the guy had retorted.
"Oh, about ten percent of five million." By this point Al had a big smile on his face, "I take it you're in."
"Without a doubt." The blue guy had chuckled.
"Good, I thought you would, meet me in two days at old warehouse number eight on the outskirts of town, there aint no cops down there, so I'll see you there." Al said motioning to the door.
The blue guy had a smile so big plastered on his face, you could fit a boat in it. After that he left. The day once again crept by, the smell of Al's office was really getting to me, and I couldn't see how he could stand it. It was like living at a dump. I know some guy like that, but I am not one of those guys. Another guy came in. He was Al's son. He was also a friend of mine as well; Nice Guy Fungus was his name. And he was a tough momma jomma, if you catch my drift. Guys have run into him and never come back the same. They talked for what seemed like hours. I had to step outside before I puked from that smell; Al's cigars had never done me much good.
Outside the cool air felt good on my scaly skin. It was a needed relief to the putrid aroma of Al's cigars of death. It was pretty quiet outside. Some kids were playing in a parking lot across the street and some old ladies walked down the sidewalk.
After I pulled myself back together and calmed my gut back down I stepped back in. I walked down the hall, up the stairs, down another hall and back into the old office. When I got back into there Fungus was gone, and the two guys stood there. I wouldn't have believed you if told me they were there, I almost ran up to them and gave them both a big kiss.