FIDO:
Aftermath:
Fido had been waiting for Trent to get into the Sentinal, and was growing impatient. Luckily he hears what he'd wanted to hear the whole time.
"FIDO GO! GO! GO!" he looks back as Trent waves both arms at him. He steps on the gas and tears away form the crime scene. He drives for a few seconds in the direction they'd decided on. When he gets to a basketball court a Diablo Stallion and a Triad Fish van swerve around the corner towards him.
The Stallion gets close and makes contact with Fido's bumber. He grabs his shotgun and steadies the wheel with his back as he quickly fires a shell at the Stallion. He hits it on the hood and it begins to smoke. He hastily grabs the wheel. and swerves the car towards the Police Station.
To his right, another Diablo Stallion roars towards him. He has no way of knowing whether it will make contact or not. He breathes again when it doesn't hit him. Then jumps as a metallic explosion peirces his eardrums. He looks back at the carnage, two Stallions intertwined by one fierce impact.The Stallion that had chased him was obviously not as lucky as he was. He can only hope that the Triad Fish Van had suffered the same fate.
It didn't, the Van comes around the impact towards him. It was times like this Fido wished he could talk then if he could, he'd be able to call Tony and get some boys down here right away. He couldn't talk because Catalina his ex-girl had left him for dead. His instincts were almost never wrong when he chose his partners in crime.
They weren't even wrong that time, when he chose her she was perfect for the kind of life he had in mind, his instincts for choosing didn't betray him, but Catalina did. As he would have put it 'The bitch double crossed him during a job.' She had aimed both of her handguns in his face and told him she was ambitious, as if he wasn't. The first shot entered his brain. The doctors told him that the brain damage had effected - partially - his ability to speak. The other thing that effected his speach was that the other shot had entered his throat.
The doctors did a spectacular job reconstructing his neck, and told him he would be able to speak in no time, with enough therapy. Fido realized after three months of Therapy that, he no longer wanted to talk. It was a waste of time and a serious burden on the person listening, all they wanted to do was be heard themselves. Also he didn't believe the doctors where right. He could never even get any noise to come out of his mouth except the sound of breathing.
Not talking gave him freedom, freedom to listen, freedom from wasted time, and freedom to think. Now he practically needed to talk, but he knew he'd never get the words out.
He was now near Leone's old place, he begins to slow down the car a little and reaches towards his feet pulling up an Uzi from under the brake pedal. He fires it at the Fish van, as it too begins to slow down. A line of destruction moves from the grill of the van towards the windshield and hits a passanger Triad several times in the chest. Fido stops the car, and gets out shutting the door. He reaches inside and grabs a shotgun from the seat.
He pulls his left hand back, ejecting a shell from the shotgun and walks towards the Triad Fish van. The driver of the van struggles for a few seconds trying to remove his gun from his belt. He does and fires several shots at Fido, who neither reacts nor moves away. The gunshots echo and seem to continue on through infinite time and space.
Fido gets to the left side of the van and yanks the door open. The Triad almost fires at him, he's struck down before it happens, his body flies backward and blood splashes everywhere around Fido.
He looks around as several Mobsters stare at him. He spots keys in the ignition, entering he pulls them out and walks towards the back of the van. He waves to the mobsters on all sides of him, and they come running. He takes the second key and sticks it in the lock. Then he flings the door open jumping backwards. The Mobsters get in front of him.
Inside the van is an unbelievable amount of armed Triads. Some of them injured from the chase. There are only eight mobsters and twenty or thirty Triads. The Mobsters had something the Triads didn't, the element of surprise, they also had shotguns. They violently blow holes in the Triads taking them out in huge numbers within an unbelievable amount of time. The Triads had gotten two of the eight Mobsters.
The last Triad cowers in the back right hand corner of the van crying for his life. The six mobsters laugh then blow him away in the most gruesome display that even Fido himself had taken part in. Bits of the Triad's flesh tear from his body and warm blood covers the seven men and the inside of the van, as the final man is literally torn to pieces.
Fido stands in the cold rain looking at the massacre with interest. 'So much blood' he couldn't help but think it, as it poured like a small waterfall from the van mixing with the rain water. Fido never liked murder, he was constantly misunderstood by his employers. He was just the only one who didn't mind it. There was not reason to fear death, and it wasn't as if he was taking the life of the person who would cure cancer. Even if he did, the man's chosen profession or who he messed with wasn't Fido's problem. He did what he was good at, and it was true, killing for him was easy, but he would never like it.
In lots of ways Fido could be considered heartless for not caring about murderer, not from his point of view, death was just another part of life. Fido knew that 8-ball on the other hand, was in denial about murder and came up with excuses for what he did because he was a good soul. Fido realized 8-ball might not be on the job for very long that's why he was happy to do any job that was thrown at him as long as 8-ball was involved. He wanted to keep 8-ball in the business, because 8-ball's the first guy he didn't have to almost kill in prison to get respect from. He was a true friend and a genuine business man, and loosing 8-ball was bad for both.
Fido smiled one final time at the massacre, he couldn't believe he'd survived all of that. Even now it still amazed him. He turns around and Trent emerges limping up the hill, next to Marco's Bistro holding the bag full of money and a blood covered silver shotgun.
Fido walks towards him smiling. Trent looks up and spots Fido for the first time. "Hey Fido how's it goin' man." he says sleepily.
Fido takes his hand horizontally does the back and forth motion, the symbol for 'so so.'
"That's good. Hey I got the money." he holds up the bag. Fido grabs it and runs towards the Sentinal and throws it through the window. Then goes back to Trent.
"We got to find 8-ball."
Trent smiles, eyes glazed over, "Hey man... I think I got a concussion."
Aftermath:
Fido had been waiting for Trent to get into the Sentinal, and was growing impatient. Luckily he hears what he'd wanted to hear the whole time.
"FIDO GO! GO! GO!" he looks back as Trent waves both arms at him. He steps on the gas and tears away form the crime scene. He drives for a few seconds in the direction they'd decided on. When he gets to a basketball court a Diablo Stallion and a Triad Fish van swerve around the corner towards him.
The Stallion gets close and makes contact with Fido's bumber. He grabs his shotgun and steadies the wheel with his back as he quickly fires a shell at the Stallion. He hits it on the hood and it begins to smoke. He hastily grabs the wheel. and swerves the car towards the Police Station.
To his right, another Diablo Stallion roars towards him. He has no way of knowing whether it will make contact or not. He breathes again when it doesn't hit him. Then jumps as a metallic explosion peirces his eardrums. He looks back at the carnage, two Stallions intertwined by one fierce impact.The Stallion that had chased him was obviously not as lucky as he was. He can only hope that the Triad Fish Van had suffered the same fate.
It didn't, the Van comes around the impact towards him. It was times like this Fido wished he could talk then if he could, he'd be able to call Tony and get some boys down here right away. He couldn't talk because Catalina his ex-girl had left him for dead. His instincts were almost never wrong when he chose his partners in crime.
They weren't even wrong that time, when he chose her she was perfect for the kind of life he had in mind, his instincts for choosing didn't betray him, but Catalina did. As he would have put it 'The bitch double crossed him during a job.' She had aimed both of her handguns in his face and told him she was ambitious, as if he wasn't. The first shot entered his brain. The doctors told him that the brain damage had effected - partially - his ability to speak. The other thing that effected his speach was that the other shot had entered his throat.
The doctors did a spectacular job reconstructing his neck, and told him he would be able to speak in no time, with enough therapy. Fido realized after three months of Therapy that, he no longer wanted to talk. It was a waste of time and a serious burden on the person listening, all they wanted to do was be heard themselves. Also he didn't believe the doctors where right. He could never even get any noise to come out of his mouth except the sound of breathing.
Not talking gave him freedom, freedom to listen, freedom from wasted time, and freedom to think. Now he practically needed to talk, but he knew he'd never get the words out.
He was now near Leone's old place, he begins to slow down the car a little and reaches towards his feet pulling up an Uzi from under the brake pedal. He fires it at the Fish van, as it too begins to slow down. A line of destruction moves from the grill of the van towards the windshield and hits a passanger Triad several times in the chest. Fido stops the car, and gets out shutting the door. He reaches inside and grabs a shotgun from the seat.
He pulls his left hand back, ejecting a shell from the shotgun and walks towards the Triad Fish van. The driver of the van struggles for a few seconds trying to remove his gun from his belt. He does and fires several shots at Fido, who neither reacts nor moves away. The gunshots echo and seem to continue on through infinite time and space.
Fido gets to the left side of the van and yanks the door open. The Triad almost fires at him, he's struck down before it happens, his body flies backward and blood splashes everywhere around Fido.
He looks around as several Mobsters stare at him. He spots keys in the ignition, entering he pulls them out and walks towards the back of the van. He waves to the mobsters on all sides of him, and they come running. He takes the second key and sticks it in the lock. Then he flings the door open jumping backwards. The Mobsters get in front of him.
Inside the van is an unbelievable amount of armed Triads. Some of them injured from the chase. There are only eight mobsters and twenty or thirty Triads. The Mobsters had something the Triads didn't, the element of surprise, they also had shotguns. They violently blow holes in the Triads taking them out in huge numbers within an unbelievable amount of time. The Triads had gotten two of the eight Mobsters.
The last Triad cowers in the back right hand corner of the van crying for his life. The six mobsters laugh then blow him away in the most gruesome display that even Fido himself had taken part in. Bits of the Triad's flesh tear from his body and warm blood covers the seven men and the inside of the van, as the final man is literally torn to pieces.
Fido stands in the cold rain looking at the massacre with interest. 'So much blood' he couldn't help but think it, as it poured like a small waterfall from the van mixing with the rain water. Fido never liked murder, he was constantly misunderstood by his employers. He was just the only one who didn't mind it. There was not reason to fear death, and it wasn't as if he was taking the life of the person who would cure cancer. Even if he did, the man's chosen profession or who he messed with wasn't Fido's problem. He did what he was good at, and it was true, killing for him was easy, but he would never like it.
In lots of ways Fido could be considered heartless for not caring about murderer, not from his point of view, death was just another part of life. Fido knew that 8-ball on the other hand, was in denial about murder and came up with excuses for what he did because he was a good soul. Fido realized 8-ball might not be on the job for very long that's why he was happy to do any job that was thrown at him as long as 8-ball was involved. He wanted to keep 8-ball in the business, because 8-ball's the first guy he didn't have to almost kill in prison to get respect from. He was a true friend and a genuine business man, and loosing 8-ball was bad for both.
Fido smiled one final time at the massacre, he couldn't believe he'd survived all of that. Even now it still amazed him. He turns around and Trent emerges limping up the hill, next to Marco's Bistro holding the bag full of money and a blood covered silver shotgun.
Fido walks towards him smiling. Trent looks up and spots Fido for the first time. "Hey Fido how's it goin' man." he says sleepily.
Fido takes his hand horizontally does the back and forth motion, the symbol for 'so so.'
"That's good. Hey I got the money." he holds up the bag. Fido grabs it and runs towards the Sentinal and throws it through the window. Then goes back to Trent.
"We got to find 8-ball."
Trent smiles, eyes glazed over, "Hey man... I think I got a concussion."