Bill, Bella and Budd all sat watching the television. Bill inhaled on the rolled cigarette and said, "Look at Farrah Fawcett go." Budd and Bella looked over at each other and smiled. They were both thinking that he only liked her because she was a blonde. The three women kicked more ass on-screen as they all shared the cigarette. Then Bella spoke.

"We could do that."

"What?"

"Have our own group except that we're professional assassins."

"I'm no Angel," said Budd.

"That's for certain," said Bill.

"No, we could have a different name," said Bella.

It was Bill and Budd's turn for a private smile. They would humor her.

"And what would that be?"

Bella had to think for a little bit before responding, "Snakes."

"Snakes?" asked Bill and Budd at the same time.

"Snakes are cool," she said and they laughed, but she was serious.

"Yeah, we could be named after a deadly snake, like a viper."

It was too late now, she was on a row.

"I could be the Tiger Rattlesnake," said Bella, excited. She thought for a minute.

"And Budd could be Sidewinder."

"Why Sidewinder?"

"Because you have to be provoked and even then, you have just a little poison and you always feel guilty afterward."

Budd nodded silently.

"What about me?" asked Bill.

"Eh, you're Bosley."

"Bosley, but Bosley's just a faceless voice telling them what to do."

"You're Bosley."

"But I do stuff. I take just as many jobs."

"Fine, then you're the snake charmer," said Bella. She started humming an Egyptian tune and dancing like a snake. Budd joined in and Bill shook his head.

"You're both hopeless," he complained.

Budd entered Bill's office to find what was nothing more than a shadow of his brother. Bill hadn't looked this bad since Bella died. He sat at his desk, nervously tapping a manila folder.

"You found her?"

Bill gave the briefest of nods and gave Budd the folder.

"These were taken by Elle two days ago in El Paso."

Budd wanted to know what was causing his brother so much pain. He had already been grieving for three months over Bea and when he found her killer, Budd would do his part.

Budd opened the folder and received a shock. It was tight close-ups of Bea. She was alive and kissing another man, a man more her own age She seemed in love. He ran a hand over his tight, gelled hair. He didn't want to believe, but the truth was there in black and white. He sighed and gave his brother a sympathetic look.

"What can I do?"

"Bea and her young man are marrying in two days."

"Didn't waste time."

"Neither did you as I recall."

Budd forced a smile. His brother caught it, almost sorry that he mentioned it.

"Anyway, I felt it was impolite of her not to have invited her nearest and dearest so I thought we would just show up anyway."

"Give them a good send-off?"

Bill nodded and Budd nodded as well.

"I got the rest of the Vipers coming as well."

Then Josephina entered and they had dinner.

Bill and his DIVAS along with Sofie were within eyesight of the small chapel.

"Give me some time with her. Budd will know the signal."

The other three nodded.

"Once inside, take out whomever you please…except her. You can beat her to within an inch of her life," said Bill and only his brother could hear the tremble in his voice as he said, "but I want to be the one to kill her."

The four nodded and Bill seemed satisfied. He took his flute and Budd moved them slightly farther away so she wouldn't suspect. He watched as his brother played and Bea came out. Bea looked different, fatter, but there was something that Budd couldn't put his finger on from this distance. He waited. After an eternity, Bill entered the chapel. Budd led them closer. Then his brother gave the signal. The four of them readied their guns and entered the wide entrance. He heard Beatrix scream, "No, Bill! No!" but he didn't want to look at the traitor. Instead, he was deciding who to shoot. They all took out Bea's young man. Budd wasn't even sure that he would be recognizable when the smoke cleared. Elle went for the organ player next. O-Ren, Sofie and Vernita were taking out Bea's new confidants so that left the minister and his…wife, Budd supposed, but Budd smiled. They looked like they couldn't decide between running and praying for help. They also looked like the kind who thought they knew God and the bible better than God himself. Marilyn had called them abominations. He easily took them out which left: Bea.

They all turned to her and Budd took a good look at her.

"Shit," he said, softly and remembered the last time that he had seen her. It had been six months ago.

"You're not pregnant, are ya?"

"Fuck no!"

Budd was very tempted to weasel out, but a promise was a promise and he had promised her.

"If you…if you ever hurt him, in any way, I will kill you. That's a promise."

There was one problem. Bea hadn't gotten fat. She was pregnant and he immediately knew who the father was even if the father didn't. Budd looked Bea up and down. She was pretty in her wedding gown. He had mere seconds to figure out what to do. He had no intention of hurting his brother's kid. She was in her third trimester, maybe he could just hurt above the baby. Yep, that was what he would have to do.

Then it started. They surrounded Bea in a circle and proceeded to beat her up. Budd watched himself. He punched and slapped, but she always landed in the arms of another Viper. He had a slightly different perspective on things than the women. They had no qualms making her eat the sandy, wooden floor especially Elle. Then again, Elle had always been jealous of Bea. Sophie mostly talked on her phone. This continued until Bea couldn't get up. She had become the blood-splattered bride. Budd was relieved that none of the blood appeared to be from the baby. Bill approached her. He took out the handkerchief, one of the ones that Josephina had embroidered. He started wiping some of the blood off her face.

"Do you find me sadistic?" he asked, but didn't expect a reply. Budd saw nothing but hatred in Bea's eyes.

"I bet I could fry an egg on your head about now, if I wanted to."

Bea made no reply. Budd cast a sad look at her, but he knew that she had taken it wrong.

"No Kiddo, I'd like to believe, even now, you're aware enough to know there isn't a trace of sadism in my actions…okay, maybe towards these other jokers, but not you."

He had gotten a lot of the blood off, but so much still remained.

"No Kiddo, at this moment, this is me at my most masochistic."

Budd didn't want to watch anymore. His brother had his gun out. He wanted to make him stop, explain things, but Bill's head would be impenetrable at this point. Budd could only watch as his brother would make the biggest mistake of his life. Bill cocked it and Bea saw what was going to happen.

"Bill, it's your baby."

Budd shut his eyes as his brother pulled the trigger, the bullet lodging in Bea's head. Bill had probably just killed his own child. Budd opened his eyes and looked at the older man. Bill's face wore a look of shock at what he had actually done and Budd could tell that he didn't believe Bea's truth. Bill took one last look at the love of his life and said, "Let's get out of here."

Budd hurried out of the church and into Bill's car. O-Ren and the girls took off in another car. The ride was quiet between the two siblings, but Budd's head pounded loudly.

"No, Bill!"

"No!"

"Bill, it's your baby."

Budd closed his eyes in a wince as he relived the sound of that gunshot. Bill parked the car outside the rented villa. Budd quickly exited and deposited his breakfast on a nearby patch of ground. Bill calmly closed the door and stared blankly at the desert. Budd slowly made his way over to him. They didn't talk for several more minutes.

"I quit."

His brother just looked at him, patiently. He had heard this before.

"I mean it this time. I meant it last time. I'd rather be retired and living with Marilyn, but…I'm not doing this again."

Bill didn't say anything.

"I didn't come back so I could beat up a pregnant woman."

"She hurt me deeply."

"She was pregnant with your child."

"You don't know that."

Budd had to stop himself from saying, "I do." He had done what Bea had asked so Bill only knew Bea's version of the airport send-off.

"Stop being stupid. She wasn't gone long enough for it to be his."

"So, what if it was mine?"

Budd was exasperated.

"You have a responsibility. You have a child."

"Bea said it was a girl."

"Then you have a daughter."

"She's probably dead."

They didn't look at each other.

"What do you want me to do?"

"Double check, see if they were able to save her. Bea was into her third trimester so maybe…"

"Probably just as good without me…"

"Without you? You're her father. You knew her mother."

"Does it really matter?"

Budd pulled at the hair that was stiff on his head. He needed a cigarette. He rustled through his suit until he found a pack and lighter. He lit it and inhaled deeply.

"You don't realize how much. You can't know, really, but once you have her in your arms, this tiny little thing. Count all her fingers and toes and look into those eyes. It changes. You'd do anything. You'd die for her."

Budd smoked deeply on the cigarette. A rift was developing between them. Finally, Bill said, "I'll look into it." Budd just smoked his cigarette some more.

Budd hastily put out the cigarette and put the ashtray on another table as soon as he saw Marilyn out of the corner of his eye. She was walking slowly, toddling really. It was to be expected though by anyone in her position. Eleven month olds aren't the best of walkers and the boy at her side was no exception. She held his hand tightly until he squealed, "Dada!"

Then she let go and he tried to run to Budd's open arms. He got a few steps and fell. He propped himself up with his hands and looked briefly like he was going to cry, but he thought better of it. He picked himself up and ran the rest of the way into his father's arms.

"There's my Brian," he said and hugged him. Marilyn kissed him on the lips and sat down beside him. Budd made no move to give Brian back and she smiled.

"I still can't believe your boss would make you work on Christmas Eve."

"What can I say? The boss is a dick."

"Shh! Small ears, I don't want Brian picking up your potty mouth."

"Sorry," said Budd, readjusting Brian on his lap. Patti, a young waitress approached them.

"What can I get you, Marilyn?" she asked. Budd already had the remains of a greasy burger platter.

"Do you have any salads?" asked Marilyn.

Patti seemed confused. Her face looked like she was trying for an answer, but it wasn't there.

"Just kidding, I'll have what he had," said Marilyn. Then she turned to Budd and said, "I love doing that."

"There's no fries right now, fryer's on the fritz again" Patti informed them.

"Since when?" asked Budd, readjusting his hat.

"Five minutes ago, it must have figured out that you were on dinner break."

Budd was not looking forward to messing with that thing.

"I'll just have the cheeseburger then."

"And for the baby?"

Budd and Marilyn looked at each other. Brian looked intently at the salt shaker.

"Usually, he eats my fries," she said to Patti.

"He only has five teeth," explained Budd.

"Six," Marilyn corrected him, "Another one came in today."

Budd made Brian open up so he could see the new tooth while Patti thought.

"We have ice cream."

Budd and Marilyn nodded.

"Coming right up."

"You're still missing him, aren't you?"

"I had him for nine years."

"Maybe it's time to get another dog," said Budd, caressing Marilyn's ring hand. She refused to replace the cheap engagement ring, wearing both it and her real wedding band.

"Maybe…"

Unbeknownst to Marilyn and Budd, Brian had reached across and gotten the salt shaker. He giggled happily as he got it unscrewed and the salt dumped everywhere. He had his father's laugh.

"Brian!" said both his parents and his face wore a look of surprise as though they weren't supposed to catch him.

Budd went for the salt shaker, but Marilyn stopped him.

"Brian, twist it back," she said, miming the actions. He complied and she grabbed it before he could undo it again. He pointed to the mess and said, "Voom." Marilyn shook her head and said, "No vacuum." Brian looked disappointed.

"Sometimes I could almost swear he breaks stuff just to see me get the vacuum out."

Budd tried hard to repress a smile.

"Well, you do look good with a vacuum."

"I'm really hoping that's not Brian's reasoning. He must get it from your side of the family."

"Why mine?"

"Because yours is the weird one."

Budd gave her a look and she smiled, innocently.

"Speaking of which, Bill sent us a package today. What's with that look? You look like he sent us a rattlesnake, or something."

"He did, didn't he?"

"No, he was nice."

"Bill is never nice."

"Well, he was this time, sort of. He gave Brian a stuffed cow, wearing pajamas, that talks."

"It talks?"

"Yeah, it says a number of things and snores."

"Can we take the battery out?"

Marilyn laughed.

"Yes, but Brian will like it when he's older. He gave me a Turquoise necklace."

"And me?"

"I'm not going to spoil the surprise, very cute."

Budd had a bad feeling.

"Budd, your break was over five minutes ago," said a large man, with short brown hair, loud enough that the entire diner could hear. Budd sighed and kissed Brian on his perpetually dirty cheeks. Then he gave him to his mother and gave her a kiss as well, but it was on the lips.

"See you in two hours?"

"Hopefully," said Budd.

"Maybe Brian will take a nap."

"No," said Brian. Marilyn sighed, Budd smiled and went back to work.

Budd parked their 1984 red Volkswagen Rabbit. It wasn't the only car parked in front of their house. A familiar De Tomaso Mangusta was also parked.

"Why's he here?"

"Who?" asked Marilyn, getting out and heading to the screaming Brian.

"Bill."

"Your brother?"

"Yep, and he's watching us right now."

Marilyn took Brian out of his seat and noticed that Bill was indeed playing a harmonica while watching them. Budd finally got out of the car.

"Hello, Bill."

"Budd, Marilyn, I thought it was about time I saw my nephew."

"It took you nine months to figure that out?"

"Well…" said Bill, shrugging, "I found a Cottonmouth. She's a spunky woman, half-Japanese, half-Chinese, half-American."

"But that adds up to…" started Marilyn, but Bill interrupted, "Don't think about it too much."

Bill studied the baby boy. He had curly, strawberry blonde hair with bright, blue eyes. There was a twinkle in his eye that Bill couldn't help but like.

"May I?" he asked, his arms open.

There was hesitation in Budd's eye, but Marilyn handed the boy to his uncle. Bill held the boy close and Brian began to cry. Budd took him and he stopped.

"He gets that way with strangers," explained Budd.

Bill forced a laugh and replied, "It still went better than the first time I held Budd."

Marilyn's interest could easily be seen in her eyes.

"What happened?"

Budd headed for the house as fast as someone who had heard a tale many times before.

"He pissed all over me," said Bill, laughing, "It went right through his diaper and through my shirt."

Marilyn laughed as well until they both heard the front door slam. He wondered what she would do.

"Would you like to come inside?"

"I really do," said Bill and they followed after Budd and Brian.

Budd smoked his cigarette, waiting for the red Rabbit to appear. Ten years ago, his twenty-year-old self would never believe the joy he would get from seeing a small red car. It was who was inside the car that counted though, Marilyn and Brian. He loved them with everything he had. Then, it appeared. Marilyn drove up to the curb and stopped. Budd knocked on the door and Marilyn rolled it down. He noticed she was wearing her new turquoise necklace along with the cross.

"You looking for somebody because I could show you a good time, only fifty bucks."

"Fifty bucks? Too cheap for me, plus you smell from that fryer. Guess I'll just have to keep looking."

They looked at each other and Marilyn said, annoyed, "Get in."

Budd got in the car, kissed his wife and smiled at his son who smiled back. Brian definitely had Budd's smile. Then Budd saw Brian's apple juice on the floor.

"Here ya go," he said, handing it to him. Marilyn smirked and Budd caught it as he fastened his seatbelt.

"What?"

"You'll see. He's in one of those moods."

"No nap?"

Brian threw the bottle, hitting the back of Budd's seat.

"Not at all."

Budd picked it up and gave it back. Brian threw the bottle at the back of Budd's seat again. Budd picked it up and kept it.

"That's it. I'm keeping it until we get home."

Brian started to cry. His parents tried to focus on the road. A minute went by before Marilyn glanced over at Budd and he knew that she knew what he was thinking. He gave the bottle back and Brian quieted.

"What a pushover," said Marilyn with a smile.

"I know you are, but what am I?"

"Oh, you are so going to get it when we get home," said Marilyn, turning the car left. Then Brian threw his bottle again. Budd sighed and Marilyn laughed.

"How long this time? A whole two minutes?"

"Nope, not gonna give in this time."

Brian seemed to know that crying wasn't going to work so he switched tactics.

"Mama! Mama!"

Marilyn made no move to get his bottle.

"Dada! Baba! Dada!" shrieked Brian, continuously.

"He's calling for you by name," said Marilyn.

"Dada!"

Budd started to give the bottle back. Brian stretched out his arms and happily said, "Dada!" Then his dad gave the bottle back.

"Hold onto it this time, will ya?"

Marilyn smiled, but then a shadow fell across her face. Budd caught it.

"What is it?"

"I really liked being home today."

"Those old geezers hitting on you again?"

"No, they're all full of regret and I get to hear about it. Come on, change, will you?" asked Marilyn to the red light.

Budd laid his hand on her leg because he knew it was best to not interrupt when she was on a rant.

"All day long, how their whole life was a waste because they made a wrong choice in seventh grade. I wish more of them were relieved or at least had real problems, but all day long, talk, talk, talk, talk. It's so nice to get home to some quiet especially since Brian only knows four words. Why are you still red? It's Christmas Eve. We need to be at home."

"You could try the magic word."

Budd saw the smart-ass gleam in her eye as she half-closed her eyes.

"God, make the light turn green."

"Please," added Budd.

"I know," said Marilyn, "I just figured I'd call on a higher authority than please."

The light turned green.

"Ha, it worked," said Marilyn, looking for cars. The only other vehicle was a faded blue pickup truck with plenty of time to stop. She pressed the gas, but the truck didn't stop. The pick-up truck slammed into them and the small car crumpled under the pickup truck's weight. Budd heard three screams and then there were just two. His head smashed through the passenger window so that his vision was blurred with blood. He could even taste it.

"Marilyn," he said and looked over at her. She was covered in blood and glass. Budd tried to move his legs, but they were pinned. He couldn't even see hers. He tried to undo his seat belt, but it wouldn't budge.

"Are you okay?" they asked at the same time.

"Everything hurts," said Marilyn, on the verge of tears. Budd decided to ignore his pain for her sake.

"I'm fine."

"Liar, how's Brian?"

Budd felt a pang of guilt for not thinking of him sooner. He tried to tilt his head, but it hurt to move it too far. He could see where the car had crumpled, but not Brian or his seat. The rearview mirror had also broken off, but Budd had a bad feeling that Brian should have been making noise.

"He's, uh, he's sleeping," said Budd, trying not to break. Marilyn easily saw through this lie and let out a huge sob. Budd wished he could hold her, but he was pretty sure that his left arm was broken. At least, that was his guess due to the white bone that was peaking from beneath the skin.

"It's going to be…," started Budd, but Marilyn shook her head slightly, interrupting.

"No, it's not," said Marilyn and she coughed. Budd hoped the flecks of blood were his imagination. She looked down at herself and he was forced to realize that she was getting bloodier by the minute. He leaned his right hand over and she grabbed it with her right. A spot of blood appeared at the corner of her mouth.

"Budd, I…I will always love you," she said, blood flowing from her mouth. She started coughing and more came out.

"I love you, Marilyn," said Budd, tears flowing from his hazel eyes. Marilyn forced a smile at him and then she was gone in another gurgle of blood.

"No! Marilyn! No!" screamed Budd until his throat was sore, there were sirens in the distance and Budd mercifully blacked out.

"Well, Mr. Albacea, it could have been a lot worse. You have two broken bones in your left arm, but we able to set it without pins. You'll just have to wear a cast for awhile. Two broken ribs, but they'll heal as well, just take it easy. Your face required seven stitches and your legs will be pretty bruised for awhile. Any questions?" asked the young doctor with short dark hair.

Budd had no concern for himself, he only wanted confirmation.

"Marilyn."

The doctor got an uncomfortable look in his eye.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Albacea, but…"

"She's gone?" Budd asked, but only half-meant it.

"She died as a result of her internal injuries."

"And Brian?"

"He died on impact."

"What happened to the driver?"

The doctor didn't look at him at this point.

"He had some facial lacerations, but that was pretty much it. He didn't even feel it. His blood alcohol count was through the roof."

"He was drunk?" asked Budd, with a hard edge to his voice that the doctor hadn't heard yet. The doctor seemed to want to back peddle his information.

"Yeah, he probably didn't even see your car."

Budd was already planning a murder when the doctor continued.

"Do you feel up for visitors?"

"Why?"

"There's a man to see you, but he said to ask you first, wasn't sure that you would want to see him."

"What's his name?" asked Budd, but he was fairly sure he already knew.

"Bill."

"Let him in."

Bill's clothes were rumpled from a long wait and he looked like he wanted to say something, but couldn't find the words. He took a chair and moved it close to Budd. They looked at each for several seconds before Bill found his voice.

"I can't even begin to imagine the pain you're going through. I have no idea, but I want to help in any way I can."

Budd tried to smile, but wasn't capable yet.

"I'm glad you came. Can you get me some water?"

Bill began to pour a cup for Budd.

"Can you help me look over things? Apparently, I won't be able to so well."

"Of course," said Bill, handing him the cup, "Actually, I already let myself in, checked messages and the like. Oh, uh, I picked up Carly and she's in the backyard."

Budd looked somewhat concerned at this.

"You put out enough food and water?"

Bill sighed.

"I do know about dogs, Budd. She's a beaut though, a nice Beagle puppy with bright brown eyes."

"You get to repair the holes she dug to the fence."

"How did you name her Carly?"

"Carly was what we going to name Brian if he was a girl. She was going to be a Christmas present for Marilyn."

"Oh."

Budd scrunched up his face, trying not to cry.

"I just keep hoping it was a bad dream."

Bill patted Budd's arm, he seemed unsure of what he could do that wouldn't cause Budd more pain. They sat for a minute or so longer and Bill got up.

"I should probably go."

Bill only got a few steps before his brother stopped him.

"Don't…don't go, just sit, will ya?"

"Alright," said Bill and he returned to his seat. Budd was grateful for the company.

It was a windy, wintry Wednesday when Bill helped Budd out of the car He had his cast and a cane because his legs still hurt. It made things difficult. Bill unlocked the door and a small blur bounded out, yapping. Carly stopped on seeing Budd. Her eyes were confused. She looked from Bill to Budd and back again.

"I only saw her once three weeks ago when I picked her out," said Budd, coming closer. Bill held the door open and Budd made his way in. Then he shut the door before Carly could get in. He leaned down to her level and stared into her brown eyes. She stopped yapping.

"I'm not your master. Budd, the guy in there, he's your master. Don't leave him."

Bill opened the door and Carly ran in. Budd stood in the living room. Bill hadn't had the guts to take down the tree or presents. He had just maintained the upkeep.

"You still want some time?" asked Bill and his younger brother nodded, "I'll call you tonight."

Bill looked at him once more and left. Budd was left alone in the house with Carly…and memories. The house seemed to be waiting for the rest of its occupants. The Christmas tree still stood and the presents were still under it. His and Marilyn's were tightly wrapped. Brian's presents had been placed in gift bags or bound in tissue paper so he could open them easier. A white bear peaked out of a green gift bag. He took it out. Budd could remember when he and Marilyn picked it out. It was nice and soft and Budd knew that Brian would get it dirty in no time flat, but…now he never would. Budd began to cry and he hugged the bear tightly. It wasn't fair. It wasn't fair that they had to die while the fucker who did this was already out on bail. He threw the bear across the room and kicked at the boxes near him. He ignored the twinkling and sounds. He ignored the physical pain. His head was too hot with anger. Then he noticed a UPS box that had to be from Bill. He was right. He found the cow in pajamas along with a framed picture from Christmas 1958. His mom had taken the picture because it was just her three children. Bill was kneeling and smiling. Bella was smiling, too, as she held Budd who clutched a white baby cowboy hat. He had forgotten about that. It had come from Esteban and his mother had put it into a treasure box when it had become gray. The frame had a note attached. It was from Bill, but dated about a week ago when he sent the package. It said:

I'm sorry that I've acted like a jerk.

Marilyn had been right. He had been nice.

Budd once again found himself setting roses on a grave, but this time there were two and he also had baby's breath that he laid on Brian's. He had kept Marilyn's grave simple, but Brian's had a small lamb.

Marilyn…Marilyn would have liked that, he thought. The funeral was fairly full of friends who had known Marilyn from work, neighbors, Rachel; their babysitter and even Patti had shown up. Budd shook all their hands and listened patiently as they all said the same thing as he sat. It was all over now though and Budd stood, leaning upon his cane. Bill had been by his side until the service was a little over halfway through. Then someone whistled a tune and Bill had left. Budd looked at the four graves. Three had been in the last ten years while the other was showing its age. Carly was at his feet. She had barely left his side; he wondered what Bill had done. Budd heard footsteps and turned to see Bill.

"I didn't mean to leave you like that, but this is for you," he said, handing him a manila folder. Budd took it and opened it.

"It was everything I could dig up," explained Bill, "including his address."

Budd was looking at the face of the man who had taken everything from him.

"You want me to tag along?"

Budd glanced at the cast and cane.

"I'd like that, but no one else, not even Elle."

"Of course, it's a family thing."

For the first time in six days, Budd Albacea smiled.

"Please! I won't drink again! I swear. Stop!" screamed a man with stringy, greasy, brown hair who had to be several years younger than Budd. Bill held the man while Budd twisted the left arm until there was a pop. The man screamed again and Budd looked at him. Budd had already walked all over him in his cowboy boots, stomping in a number of places and broken his nose. The nose wasn't meant to get broken that quickly, but George Brown put up a fight before being sedated for travel. A spot in the middle of nowhere in the middle of the desert was much more suited for a prolonged killing.

"And that's what you would tell me, wouldn't it? Is that what you told the judge the last two times you were convicted of DUI?" asked Budd and he adopted a whiny voice for the next part, "I'll never drink again. I promise."

George's eyes were wide and scared like a rabbit's.

"That's horseshit and you know it. Time will pass. You'll forget and you'll go drinking. Then you'll drive…and then you'll destroy some other family!"

Budd had worked himself up and it was only alleviated by kicking George in the crotch. George let out a new howl of pain and Budd smiled. Then Budd had Bill tie him to the faded blue truck. His feet were bound to the trailer hitch. Bill handed Budd a large mallet and he proceeded to smash George's left arm before continuing to his chest. Then Bill handed Budd his Hanzo sword.

"Do you know what this is?" Budd asked George.

"A sword," he said, hoarsely.

"A sword?" asked Budd grinning and Bill shook his head like he had called an elephant a kangaroo.

"This," said Budd, holding it close for the man to see, "is a Hattori Hanzo sword, the sharpest sword in world."

George eyed Budd, questioningly.

"Why don't I give you a demonstration?"

Budd played with him, nicking and cutting here and there, but nothing serious, nothing major. The younger man just cried so that his tears were mixed with blood. Finally, after an hour, he cried, "Stop! Stop! Please stop!" To his surprise, Budd stopped. He glanced from George to the truck and then looked at Bill.

"You feel like a drive?"

Bill nodded.

"Well, get in then."

George had a confused expression on his face as Bill and Budd got in the truck. Budd had Bill drive as he hobbled onto the passenger side and lit a cigarette. He was trying his best not to use a cane today. It was really too soon for something this physical, but Budd wanted to stop him before he went out for New Year's Eve. George soon realized what they were up to when they started the vehicle without untying him. They drove for half an hour through the harsh desert terrain before stopping.

"Who are you?" asked George, softly as Budd stood over him with his Hanzo.

"You don't know me?"

George shook his head slightly. Dirt had engrained itself into every one of his sores. Budd was pleased.

"Then I'll tell you who I am. I was in the Rabbit that you smashed into last Saturday. I had to watch my wife and son die while I couldn't do nothing, not a damn, fucking thing and you sat in your truck, not feeling a thing because you were plastered out of your mind. Today, I'm your mother-fucking angel of death."

George looked like he would shit his pants and Budd laughed, sharing a look with his brother.

"You're just lucky that I can't fire my shotgun one-handed. Untie the fucker," Budd told Bill. Bill complied and George was thrown onto the desert ground. Budd raised his sword and brought it down on George's neck, but only a tiny bit, just enough so that George could feel the blood trickle. He waited a few minutes and cut a bit deeper. He drew out the cutting of George's neck for almost an hour and a half as blood finally dripped from his enemy's lips. Then Budd nodded, they disposed of the body and Budd became Sidewinder once again.

Budd and Bill watched the sunset on a rocky cliff. They had just come back from killing an Indian who had crossed Fang. Bill studied his younger brother and was a little disheartened to realize how much older the eleven-year-old looked than the last time he had seen him. He was taller and had lost his baby fat. He was also wearing clothes very similar to his own, he thought with a smile.

"Does it ever get better?" asked the boy.

"Does what get better?"

"Killing."

It wasn't a question Bill would have expected, but he had thought for a few years now that Budd actually thought too much. He thought for a little while and answered, "No, not really, I suppose that's for the best. One shouldn't enjoy killing too much."

"Then why do you keep doing it?"

Bill shrugged.

"I'm good at it and the pay's not too shabby either."

Budd's hazel eyes narrowed in thought, but Bill got the impression that the answer didn't completely satisfy him. Bill could still remember the six-year-old that he had taught to shoot and wondered where the time had gone.