CHAPTER FOURTEEN: ALL'S WELL THAT SORTA' ENDS WELL
The two fairly important guys in the trash business met Nick and Natch at the train station. They took both of them to a doctor up north who didn't have two or three martinis for lunch and Nick was patched up pretty good.
Later on they met with Joseph, who gave them the big hello and hugs and kisses, and oh my God!, stuffed twenty G's into each of their pockets with big smiles all around and about.
Joseph was a somewhat steamed up the boys had to clip the fat wife, thinking this will cause somewhat of a dust up down there and hereabouts, which if they do their homework could cause some upsetment in and around these parts.
The Old Man smiled, thinking, well that is the life we lead.
And that, well, that's the stuff that happened before the other stuff happened.
the end.....of this stuff.
Friday, February 17, 2017
CHAPTER THIRTEEN: 'THE UNWELCOME GUEST'.....Woody Guthrie
Around the rear of the hotel, in the parking lot, the hot afternoon sun beating down on them, the alcohol worming it's way through their systems, Nick and Natch cruised the lot, looking for that one special junker they could boost for the short ride out to where they were going.
"Here, just what we fuckin' need. A hunk of shit, must be ten years old."
"Ugly. I'm not sure I wanna' be seen in this shit box." Natch rapped his knuckles on the hood of the car, saw rust particles dance away, landing on the hot black top. "Fuck it, let's take it."
Nick jimmied the door open, hot wired the car, it fired up, blue smoke erupting from the rusted tail pipe, and as the owner was lounging near the pool, his first real vacation, his rusted hulk took off down the road.
The radio wasn't working in the car, annoying Natch more than somewhat, and since he wasn't driving was fairly bored.
"We close? This fuckin' heap a shit is driving me crazy"
"Yeah, we'll ditch this thing in a bit and walk the rest of the way." Nick smiled, thinking, what the hell, we got a good fuckin' plan.
They parked the car three blocks from where they wanted to be, a house, which was a near the home which containe the Tic.
They exited the car, Natch very happy to be out of the shit box, Nick grinning at his best friend, knowing how much it drove him fuckin' nuts the radio wasn't working. They made sure their heat was loaded, the extra clips tucked away in pockets and headed off down the block, Natch tossing the one finger salute to the rusted out jalopy.
They hit the street where Benny The Tic lived and stopped about four houses away. This little mansion had a large hedge around it Nick and Natch shoving their way through the hedge, and waited until it got towards afternoon.
"Waitin' sucks"
Long afternoon shadows skidded across the roof tops, trees providing shade from the heat, the day moving slowly towards that late afternoon. Nick and Natch pushed their way through the hedge and slowly ambled down the block, heading for their target, that prick, Benny The Tic. They stopped across the street from the house, and decided this was a good fuckin' spot.
Pointing at the house in front of them, Natch figured it out.
"We just bust into this fuckin' house, toss whoever is there into the fuckin' basement and wait till that mother fucker, Benny The Tic, comes out across the street to head over to his mother's for fuckin' Sunday dinner
Natch gazed up at the house, a fairly large mini mansion, floor to ceiling windows all over the fuckin' place, pretty fuckin' awesome. A pretty nifty fuckin Benz parked at the curb, two nice somethings, probably Jap shit, in the driveway, Lexus he thought, not sure about that crap.
They stood at the curb, thinking, well, maybe this asshole has got company, some dipshits visiting him, and maybe there's a ton of fuckin' geeks inside, which could complicate shit more than somewhat. They both turned at the same time, as the front door across the street opened and what the fuck!, there's that prick, him and his two fuckin' body guards, and they are slowly walking to the curb, where that prick has some big ass, black fuckin' limo parked.
"Fuck!"
They both took off, racing across the very wide street, pistols drawn and before the two dick head body guards knew what was happening, they each had nice sized holes in their foreheads. Benny The Tic reached for his pistol, and as he yanked it out of his jacket, Natch fired, the slug ripping across Benny The Tic's arm, a shot fired, the pistol dropping, a slug exiting, which somehow found it's way to Nick's leg, slicing a pretty nice chunk of skin away, he could feel the warmth of his own blood as he stumbled. Natch fired again, the shot entering Benny The Tic's chest, exploding his heart and he fell backward, just as his front door opened and out pops the screaming crazy assed wife of the now recently departed Benny The Tic.
'BENNY! BENNNNNNYYY!"
"Shut her up." Nick on the ground, his hands wrapped around his bleeding leg. Natch aimed, fired, the bullet entering her big fuckin' mouth, tumbled around and exited through her right ear. She collapsed to the ground, her big floppy feet kickin' in a last spasm.
Natch ran to one of the body guards, pumped another shot into the bastard, then bent over and ripped his shirt apart, which he then used to wrap Nick's bleeding leg.
Natch dragged Nick across the street. He smashed the glass on the pretty snappy Benz, tossed Nick inside, opened the door, and using his own means, fired up the car and they took off. In the distance, the wail of police sirens; one of the ton of fuckin' geeks stood at the door and watched the Benz take off.
They ditched the snappy Benz about four blocks from the hotel.
Natch called a fairly important guy in the trash business up north, told him the tale and the fairly important guy in the trash business up north hooked them up with a doctor not too far away, a guy who patched up Nick as best he could, the three martini's he had with lunch, or FOR lunch not doing him any favors.
That night two tickets were purchased for AMTRAK, the train leaving fairly soon, Nick and Natch got one of them rooms who can get on a fuckin train, the night passing by okay, dinner, a drink, another drink, sleep as best they could and sometime the next day they arrived up north.
It was fuckin' raining.
Around the rear of the hotel, in the parking lot, the hot afternoon sun beating down on them, the alcohol worming it's way through their systems, Nick and Natch cruised the lot, looking for that one special junker they could boost for the short ride out to where they were going.
"Here, just what we fuckin' need. A hunk of shit, must be ten years old."
"Ugly. I'm not sure I wanna' be seen in this shit box." Natch rapped his knuckles on the hood of the car, saw rust particles dance away, landing on the hot black top. "Fuck it, let's take it."
Nick jimmied the door open, hot wired the car, it fired up, blue smoke erupting from the rusted tail pipe, and as the owner was lounging near the pool, his first real vacation, his rusted hulk took off down the road.
The radio wasn't working in the car, annoying Natch more than somewhat, and since he wasn't driving was fairly bored.
"We close? This fuckin' heap a shit is driving me crazy"
"Yeah, we'll ditch this thing in a bit and walk the rest of the way." Nick smiled, thinking, what the hell, we got a good fuckin' plan.
They parked the car three blocks from where they wanted to be, a house, which was a near the home which containe the Tic.
They exited the car, Natch very happy to be out of the shit box, Nick grinning at his best friend, knowing how much it drove him fuckin' nuts the radio wasn't working. They made sure their heat was loaded, the extra clips tucked away in pockets and headed off down the block, Natch tossing the one finger salute to the rusted out jalopy.
They hit the street where Benny The Tic lived and stopped about four houses away. This little mansion had a large hedge around it Nick and Natch shoving their way through the hedge, and waited until it got towards afternoon.
"Waitin' sucks"
Long afternoon shadows skidded across the roof tops, trees providing shade from the heat, the day moving slowly towards that late afternoon. Nick and Natch pushed their way through the hedge and slowly ambled down the block, heading for their target, that prick, Benny The Tic. They stopped across the street from the house, and decided this was a good fuckin' spot.
Pointing at the house in front of them, Natch figured it out.
"We just bust into this fuckin' house, toss whoever is there into the fuckin' basement and wait till that mother fucker, Benny The Tic, comes out across the street to head over to his mother's for fuckin' Sunday dinner
Natch gazed up at the house, a fairly large mini mansion, floor to ceiling windows all over the fuckin' place, pretty fuckin' awesome. A pretty nifty fuckin Benz parked at the curb, two nice somethings, probably Jap shit, in the driveway, Lexus he thought, not sure about that crap.
They stood at the curb, thinking, well, maybe this asshole has got company, some dipshits visiting him, and maybe there's a ton of fuckin' geeks inside, which could complicate shit more than somewhat. They both turned at the same time, as the front door across the street opened and what the fuck!, there's that prick, him and his two fuckin' body guards, and they are slowly walking to the curb, where that prick has some big ass, black fuckin' limo parked.
"Fuck!"
They both took off, racing across the very wide street, pistols drawn and before the two dick head body guards knew what was happening, they each had nice sized holes in their foreheads. Benny The Tic reached for his pistol, and as he yanked it out of his jacket, Natch fired, the slug ripping across Benny The Tic's arm, a shot fired, the pistol dropping, a slug exiting, which somehow found it's way to Nick's leg, slicing a pretty nice chunk of skin away, he could feel the warmth of his own blood as he stumbled. Natch fired again, the shot entering Benny The Tic's chest, exploding his heart and he fell backward, just as his front door opened and out pops the screaming crazy assed wife of the now recently departed Benny The Tic.
'BENNY! BENNNNNNYYY!"
"Shut her up." Nick on the ground, his hands wrapped around his bleeding leg. Natch aimed, fired, the bullet entering her big fuckin' mouth, tumbled around and exited through her right ear. She collapsed to the ground, her big floppy feet kickin' in a last spasm.
Natch ran to one of the body guards, pumped another shot into the bastard, then bent over and ripped his shirt apart, which he then used to wrap Nick's bleeding leg.
Natch dragged Nick across the street. He smashed the glass on the pretty snappy Benz, tossed Nick inside, opened the door, and using his own means, fired up the car and they took off. In the distance, the wail of police sirens; one of the ton of fuckin' geeks stood at the door and watched the Benz take off.
They ditched the snappy Benz about four blocks from the hotel.
Natch called a fairly important guy in the trash business up north, told him the tale and the fairly important guy in the trash business up north hooked them up with a doctor not too far away, a guy who patched up Nick as best he could, the three martini's he had with lunch, or FOR lunch not doing him any favors.
That night two tickets were purchased for AMTRAK, the train leaving fairly soon, Nick and Natch got one of them rooms who can get on a fuckin train, the night passing by okay, dinner, a drink, another drink, sleep as best they could and sometime the next day they arrived up north.
It was fuckin' raining.
Wednesday, February 15, 2017
CHAPTER TWELVE: THE BIG FUCKIN' PLAN
They were back at the hotel, near the pool, the sun dappling off the crystal water, sunglasses hiding their eyes, shirts off, some fruity drink with a fuckin' umbrella in sweaty hands.
Natch told Nick the plan, Nick smiled thinking it just might work.
"We know the prick goes to his mother's for dinner every Sunday. We don't know what the fuck time he goes, when the fuck he goes, other than it's Sunday."
"Yeah, so that's the plan, we do what we gotta' do what I said and we wait for him." Natch smiled, the plan was solid fuckin' gold.
"We take him out right in the fuckin' street, his douche bag wife right next to him."
"That's how it rolls. Sorry lady, but we gotta' plant a few slugs into your ever lovin', seeing as he tried his very best to choke the Old Man to death. And we start blasting, put a few fuckin' holes in the prick, sorta' like fucking air conditioning" Natch was tapping his fingers on the frosted glass of the table.
"He's gonna be short a few ticks when we get done with him." Natch took a sip of his fruity drink, made a face.
"Yeah, he ticked his last tock, fuck him."
They signaled for another round of drinks, Nick pinches the cute ass of the waitress, who gave him the evil eye, which shortly brought the hotel manager to their table.
"Mind of I have a word, fellas?" He looked pretty good, nice suit and tie, what the fuck, sneakers? His dark hair was combed straight back, a slight recess in the hair line, brown eyes and a glued on fuckin' smile, which after a few seconds steamed up Natch pretty more than somewhat.
In normal situations the Hotel Manager would probably be asked to take a seat, but this was hardly anything normal.
"What's on your mind, Jose?"
"It's Joseph, Joseph." A silence. "The cocktail waitress said one of you fellas might have pinched her rear end."
"Nobody likes a fuckin' stoolie."
"Be that as it may, please, fellas, hotel policy is designed to preclude these types of events."
"Whatever the fuck preclude is, we don't give a rats ass about no fuckin' policy, unless it's one we are runnin'." Nick smiled, took a sip of his umbrella adorned drink. "And these drinks suck."
"They are on the house, and thanks for your cooperation."
"Hit the fuckin' road, Jose, before we get ourselves steamed up, your dippy fuckin' smilin' face is already got me annoyed." Natch took a sizeable slurp of his umbrella adorned drink. "This is shit and you shouldn't charge for this crap anyway"
"So, if ya' don't fuckin' mind, why not drive those fruity sneakers of yours outta' my sight."
"Thanks again for your cooperation." The Hotel Manager, wiping sweat from his brow, turned and headed back to wherever the fuck Hotel Managers hang out when they are not annoying peaceable citizens having a nice fruity fuckin' drink at the pool.
Where he went was the hotel security office. He stepped inside, told his Chief of Security about the two barbarians at the pool and please do your very best to find a workable excuse to toss both of them out of the hotel.
Yeah, right.
They were back at the hotel, near the pool, the sun dappling off the crystal water, sunglasses hiding their eyes, shirts off, some fruity drink with a fuckin' umbrella in sweaty hands.
Natch told Nick the plan, Nick smiled thinking it just might work.
"We know the prick goes to his mother's for dinner every Sunday. We don't know what the fuck time he goes, when the fuck he goes, other than it's Sunday."
"Yeah, so that's the plan, we do what we gotta' do what I said and we wait for him." Natch smiled, the plan was solid fuckin' gold.
"We take him out right in the fuckin' street, his douche bag wife right next to him."
"That's how it rolls. Sorry lady, but we gotta' plant a few slugs into your ever lovin', seeing as he tried his very best to choke the Old Man to death. And we start blasting, put a few fuckin' holes in the prick, sorta' like fucking air conditioning" Natch was tapping his fingers on the frosted glass of the table.
"He's gonna be short a few ticks when we get done with him." Natch took a sip of his fruity drink, made a face.
"Yeah, he ticked his last tock, fuck him."
They signaled for another round of drinks, Nick pinches the cute ass of the waitress, who gave him the evil eye, which shortly brought the hotel manager to their table.
"Mind of I have a word, fellas?" He looked pretty good, nice suit and tie, what the fuck, sneakers? His dark hair was combed straight back, a slight recess in the hair line, brown eyes and a glued on fuckin' smile, which after a few seconds steamed up Natch pretty more than somewhat.
In normal situations the Hotel Manager would probably be asked to take a seat, but this was hardly anything normal.
"What's on your mind, Jose?"
"It's Joseph, Joseph." A silence. "The cocktail waitress said one of you fellas might have pinched her rear end."
"Nobody likes a fuckin' stoolie."
"Be that as it may, please, fellas, hotel policy is designed to preclude these types of events."
"Whatever the fuck preclude is, we don't give a rats ass about no fuckin' policy, unless it's one we are runnin'." Nick smiled, took a sip of his umbrella adorned drink. "And these drinks suck."
"They are on the house, and thanks for your cooperation."
"Hit the fuckin' road, Jose, before we get ourselves steamed up, your dippy fuckin' smilin' face is already got me annoyed." Natch took a sizeable slurp of his umbrella adorned drink. "This is shit and you shouldn't charge for this crap anyway"
"So, if ya' don't fuckin' mind, why not drive those fruity sneakers of yours outta' my sight."
"Thanks again for your cooperation." The Hotel Manager, wiping sweat from his brow, turned and headed back to wherever the fuck Hotel Managers hang out when they are not annoying peaceable citizens having a nice fruity fuckin' drink at the pool.
Where he went was the hotel security office. He stepped inside, told his Chief of Security about the two barbarians at the pool and please do your very best to find a workable excuse to toss both of them out of the hotel.
Yeah, right.
Monday, February 13, 2017
Chapter Eleven: I'M IN MIAMI, BITCH.....LMFAO
"Holy Shit, it's fuckin' hot."
"That's why they got them fuckin' beaches down here." Nick scanned the area, looking for a taxi. Finding one, he flagged the guy down, they climbed inside, tossing the bags into the trunk, and the cab took off, heading towards South Beach.
As the cab rolled down the main drag, passing one pastel colored hotel after another, Nick and Natch wide eyed, taking it all in.
"Looks like fruit city down here, what with all the fruity colors and them fuckin' buildings and all."
"It don't matter, we gonna' meet this guy, grab what we gotta' grab and then we head over to the classy part of this fuckin' town, where our hotel is at."
The guy they had to meet, to grab what they gotta' grab, was a local semi involved guy, with a fairly good reputation as a guy who can be counted on to do the right things in all respects, especially with respects to knives and pistols and whatnot. Jackie "The Nose" knows guns, spent a lot of time in the Army, and spent his time now hustling guns to people who may not want to spend some time down at the gun store filling out the fuckin' paperwork for them background checks they got now.
Jackie "The Nose" spent his days and some of his nights in the lobby of a fairly flea bag hotel, sometimes at the bar, always with the newspaper opened to the racing form.
Oh yeah, The Nose. Well the nose was fairly large, Durante type schnozola, with red racing stripes down the nostrils, the effects of maybe one too many Cuba Libres in the afternoons. But he was known far and wide as the guy to see if you wanted some firepower to toss a few hundred slugs around to settle a long term beef.
A fairly important guy in the trash business up North knew of Jackie "The Nose", and touted him to Nick and Natch, since carrying heat on an airplane was pretty much frowned on these days.
They exited the cab, paid the driver, who thought, can't get this schmo's outta' my cab fast enough. Nick parked the bags in the lobby of the hotel and off they went in search of the guy, Jackie "The Nose", to let them grab what they gotta' grab.
"No fuckin' wise cracks about his fuckin' nose. That guy up North told me about his fuckin' nose, so no fuckin' jokes."
"Well, he should be easy to spot, since.....Fuck!, looka' that nozzle!"
"Quiet!"
There, sitting in the lobby of the flea bag hotel, a newspaper folded on his lap, was the big nose, red racing stripes and all, the nose being attached to none other than Jackie "The Nose."
They approached the nose, then Jackie "The Nose."
"You Jackie? Sal, from up North you know Sal, the guy in the trash dodge, Sal?"
"Follow me." Jackie "The Nose", stood, smooth out his pants, tosses the paper on the chair and leads Nick and Natch to the elevator.
"You got what we gotta' get?" Nick thinking, what a fuckin' nose, you could draw fuckin' countries on that nose, what with all them fuckin' lines.. Nick worked hard to look away, eyes Natch who was locked onto the nose, he stare glued. Nick kicked Natch in the leg, snapping him out of his amazement.
"Get in."
The doors opened, all three stepped inside, the elevator, old, the door slow, the ride up two floors taking for fuckin' ever.
They walked down a dimly lit hallway, stopped at room 444, Nick thinking, what the fuck, room 444 but this is the second fuckin' floor.
Jackie "The Nose" using his key, opened the door and Nick and Natch stepped into an armaments warehouse.
"Holy shit."
"Fuck."
"You wanted nine mils, right?"
"Yeah."
"Follow me." Jackie "The Nose", moved across the room, opened a door where perhaps a bedroom might have been, but is instead a showroom of firepower, pistol section. Nick thinking, holy shit, and the crap he's got piled up in the other room, fuckin' bazookas, land mines, machine guns, rocket launchers, shit we could really use up North to settle a few beefs and whatnot. His eyes fell upon the nickel plated pistols, the nine mils.
"Nice selection." Natch thinking, shit, he's got more guns than the fuckin' shoe store got fuckin' shoes.
They each picked two, got extra clips, a phone call was made, money was wire transferred and Nick and Natch, fully armed to the teeth and ready for their little adventure, left the hotel, snatching up their bags.
Bags, guns and Nick and Natch were dropped off in front off a pretty snazzy hotel, the bellboys lugging the suitcases to the front desk, large type tips being bandied about. They got their room keys, sent the luggage up, tipping again, smiles all about, stopped at the bar, Grey Goose, rocks, lemon wedge, the elevator up to their room.
Sipping their drinks, the bar tender not too happy they left with the nice bar glassware, but the twenty slapped on the bar calmed down his nerves more than somewhat.
"Let's figure out what we gotta' figure out so we don't fuck this up." Nick sat in an easy chair, legs propped up on the big bed. He gazed at his drink, thinking, nice fuckin' glass, got some heft to it, a guy could get plenty used to this shit.
Natch had settled down by the window, looking down at the swimming pool, the bikinis at the swimming pool, he turned to Nick. "There's very fuckable babes down stairs at the pool, why not we take a few hours see if we can hose a few of them?"
"Later. We gotta' do this job, clip that prick, then we got time for whatever else we wanna' do, Joseph says take a few days off." Nice sip of the ice cold Vodka sliding down his throat, Nick smiled, watching Natch return to looking down at the fabulous bikini's and the babes filling them out so nicely.
"Lemme' tell ya something, Nick, they got babes up the ying yang down there at the fuckin' pool. Natch sipped his drink, the Vodka, cold and nice, sliding across his tongue.
"Drink up, we gotta' ride."
Natch turned, Nick stood, gulped down his drink, snatched up the room keys and headed out of the room, walking towards the elevator. They arrive, push the fuckin button, wait, and a honey of a girl arrives with a runt of a dog in her arms.
Did I mention she was stunning, slinky dress, deep dark blue eyes, pouty lips, red fuckin' lipstick, and wooza a set of knockers to knock your socks off?
"Hey, what's that, some kinda' fuckin' rat?"
"You two clowns just sneak across the border?" She turned away form them, ignoring them both. A deep, I am offended sigh.
"My friend is sorry."
"He is sorry. Now, why don't you two, ahem, gentlemen, go back to whatever you were doing, pounding each other I assume, and leave me alone."
"Nice fuckin' mouth you got on ya, babe." Natch, smiling.
"Drop dead. Tell your moms, if you in fact have moms, not to send you out to play with the adults anymore." She turned away and walked back towards her hotel room, the dog over her shoulder, snarling at Nick and Natch.
"Hey lady, maybe you wanna' I throw that fuckin' mutt out the window?"
She enters her room, the door slams shut.
"What gives with her?" Natch turns facing Nick as the elevator arrives.
"She's prolly one a them dildo swinging dike bitches."
"Well, I got a real life fuckin' dildo for her."
Two well dressed businessmen in the elevator were somewhat aghast at the language of the two "gents" entering. The door closed, the two businessmen move two steps away form Nick and Natch.
"Nice fuckin' day." Natch nods to one of the men.
"You fellas guests here?"
"What's with you, you some kinda' jerkoff? Off course we are guests, we paid out fuckin' money and yeah, ass wipe, we are guests.
"Probably not a good fuckin' idea to steam up my friend here. Maybe you two douche bags shut up and get off the fuckin' elevator art the next fuckin' floor." Nick punches the button for the next floor, the elevator stops, the two businessmen get off, six, not the lobby, not anywhere near the fuckin' lobby, but off they get. The doors close.
"What the fuck kinda' town is this?" Nick thinking, when we do this job, when it's fuckin' over, we head back to the hotel and that pool. Maybe we find that bitch with the pet rat.
They climb into a cab, both sliding into the air conditioning.
"Some fuckin' town you fuckin' got here."
"Excuse me sir?" The driver, not 100 percent sure of his two passengers, and the thought occurred to him, shit maybe I don't get paid, these guys gamooks, don't look too solid.
"It's like they got some fuckin' attitude, what with the snappy answers and shit."
"Not sure what you mean, sirs." Are we there yet?
"No fuckin problem, just fuckin' drive." Natch looking out the window as they hit the very nice area, big houses, large slices of property, swimming pools, gleaming luxury cars scattered about.
"This is the block sirs." Please, I'll slow down, you can jump out, don't worry about paying me, just get the hell outta' my cab.
"Do not stop this hunk of shit cab, just slow down." Nick had the address and as they passed the house, there's the fuckin' house, he watched, he looked, Natch watched, looked. "Ok, lets get outta' here."
"Where to sirs?" Shit, they ain't leaving,
"Back to the fuckin' hotel, and listen keep your fuckin mouth shit where we went, what we did, you got that Raul?" Nick looking at the driver's hack license.
"Yeah, forget we was here, forget where we went, we don't wanna come back here and throw you through a nice shinny window, you got that?" Natch smiled, the whole big fuckin plan was coming together as he sat and watched the scenery roll by.
NEXT: CHAPTER TWELVE: THE BIG FUCKIN' PLAN.
"Holy Shit, it's fuckin' hot."
"That's why they got them fuckin' beaches down here." Nick scanned the area, looking for a taxi. Finding one, he flagged the guy down, they climbed inside, tossing the bags into the trunk, and the cab took off, heading towards South Beach.
As the cab rolled down the main drag, passing one pastel colored hotel after another, Nick and Natch wide eyed, taking it all in.
"Looks like fruit city down here, what with all the fruity colors and them fuckin' buildings and all."
"It don't matter, we gonna' meet this guy, grab what we gotta' grab and then we head over to the classy part of this fuckin' town, where our hotel is at."
The guy they had to meet, to grab what they gotta' grab, was a local semi involved guy, with a fairly good reputation as a guy who can be counted on to do the right things in all respects, especially with respects to knives and pistols and whatnot. Jackie "The Nose" knows guns, spent a lot of time in the Army, and spent his time now hustling guns to people who may not want to spend some time down at the gun store filling out the fuckin' paperwork for them background checks they got now.
Jackie "The Nose" spent his days and some of his nights in the lobby of a fairly flea bag hotel, sometimes at the bar, always with the newspaper opened to the racing form.
Oh yeah, The Nose. Well the nose was fairly large, Durante type schnozola, with red racing stripes down the nostrils, the effects of maybe one too many Cuba Libres in the afternoons. But he was known far and wide as the guy to see if you wanted some firepower to toss a few hundred slugs around to settle a long term beef.
A fairly important guy in the trash business up North knew of Jackie "The Nose", and touted him to Nick and Natch, since carrying heat on an airplane was pretty much frowned on these days.
They exited the cab, paid the driver, who thought, can't get this schmo's outta' my cab fast enough. Nick parked the bags in the lobby of the hotel and off they went in search of the guy, Jackie "The Nose", to let them grab what they gotta' grab.
"No fuckin' wise cracks about his fuckin' nose. That guy up North told me about his fuckin' nose, so no fuckin' jokes."
"Well, he should be easy to spot, since.....Fuck!, looka' that nozzle!"
"Quiet!"
There, sitting in the lobby of the flea bag hotel, a newspaper folded on his lap, was the big nose, red racing stripes and all, the nose being attached to none other than Jackie "The Nose."
They approached the nose, then Jackie "The Nose."
"You Jackie? Sal, from up North you know Sal, the guy in the trash dodge, Sal?"
"Follow me." Jackie "The Nose", stood, smooth out his pants, tosses the paper on the chair and leads Nick and Natch to the elevator.
"You got what we gotta' get?" Nick thinking, what a fuckin' nose, you could draw fuckin' countries on that nose, what with all them fuckin' lines.. Nick worked hard to look away, eyes Natch who was locked onto the nose, he stare glued. Nick kicked Natch in the leg, snapping him out of his amazement.
"Get in."
The doors opened, all three stepped inside, the elevator, old, the door slow, the ride up two floors taking for fuckin' ever.
They walked down a dimly lit hallway, stopped at room 444, Nick thinking, what the fuck, room 444 but this is the second fuckin' floor.
Jackie "The Nose" using his key, opened the door and Nick and Natch stepped into an armaments warehouse.
"Holy shit."
"Fuck."
"You wanted nine mils, right?"
"Yeah."
"Follow me." Jackie "The Nose", moved across the room, opened a door where perhaps a bedroom might have been, but is instead a showroom of firepower, pistol section. Nick thinking, holy shit, and the crap he's got piled up in the other room, fuckin' bazookas, land mines, machine guns, rocket launchers, shit we could really use up North to settle a few beefs and whatnot. His eyes fell upon the nickel plated pistols, the nine mils.
"Nice selection." Natch thinking, shit, he's got more guns than the fuckin' shoe store got fuckin' shoes.
They each picked two, got extra clips, a phone call was made, money was wire transferred and Nick and Natch, fully armed to the teeth and ready for their little adventure, left the hotel, snatching up their bags.
Bags, guns and Nick and Natch were dropped off in front off a pretty snazzy hotel, the bellboys lugging the suitcases to the front desk, large type tips being bandied about. They got their room keys, sent the luggage up, tipping again, smiles all about, stopped at the bar, Grey Goose, rocks, lemon wedge, the elevator up to their room.
Sipping their drinks, the bar tender not too happy they left with the nice bar glassware, but the twenty slapped on the bar calmed down his nerves more than somewhat.
"Let's figure out what we gotta' figure out so we don't fuck this up." Nick sat in an easy chair, legs propped up on the big bed. He gazed at his drink, thinking, nice fuckin' glass, got some heft to it, a guy could get plenty used to this shit.
Natch had settled down by the window, looking down at the swimming pool, the bikinis at the swimming pool, he turned to Nick. "There's very fuckable babes down stairs at the pool, why not we take a few hours see if we can hose a few of them?"
"Later. We gotta' do this job, clip that prick, then we got time for whatever else we wanna' do, Joseph says take a few days off." Nice sip of the ice cold Vodka sliding down his throat, Nick smiled, watching Natch return to looking down at the fabulous bikini's and the babes filling them out so nicely.
"Lemme' tell ya something, Nick, they got babes up the ying yang down there at the fuckin' pool. Natch sipped his drink, the Vodka, cold and nice, sliding across his tongue.
"Drink up, we gotta' ride."
Natch turned, Nick stood, gulped down his drink, snatched up the room keys and headed out of the room, walking towards the elevator. They arrive, push the fuckin button, wait, and a honey of a girl arrives with a runt of a dog in her arms.
Did I mention she was stunning, slinky dress, deep dark blue eyes, pouty lips, red fuckin' lipstick, and wooza a set of knockers to knock your socks off?
"Hey, what's that, some kinda' fuckin' rat?"
"You two clowns just sneak across the border?" She turned away form them, ignoring them both. A deep, I am offended sigh.
"My friend is sorry."
"He is sorry. Now, why don't you two, ahem, gentlemen, go back to whatever you were doing, pounding each other I assume, and leave me alone."
"Nice fuckin' mouth you got on ya, babe." Natch, smiling.
"Drop dead. Tell your moms, if you in fact have moms, not to send you out to play with the adults anymore." She turned away and walked back towards her hotel room, the dog over her shoulder, snarling at Nick and Natch.
"Hey lady, maybe you wanna' I throw that fuckin' mutt out the window?"
She enters her room, the door slams shut.
"What gives with her?" Natch turns facing Nick as the elevator arrives.
"She's prolly one a them dildo swinging dike bitches."
"Well, I got a real life fuckin' dildo for her."
Two well dressed businessmen in the elevator were somewhat aghast at the language of the two "gents" entering. The door closed, the two businessmen move two steps away form Nick and Natch.
"Nice fuckin' day." Natch nods to one of the men.
"You fellas guests here?"
"What's with you, you some kinda' jerkoff? Off course we are guests, we paid out fuckin' money and yeah, ass wipe, we are guests.
"Probably not a good fuckin' idea to steam up my friend here. Maybe you two douche bags shut up and get off the fuckin' elevator art the next fuckin' floor." Nick punches the button for the next floor, the elevator stops, the two businessmen get off, six, not the lobby, not anywhere near the fuckin' lobby, but off they get. The doors close.
"What the fuck kinda' town is this?" Nick thinking, when we do this job, when it's fuckin' over, we head back to the hotel and that pool. Maybe we find that bitch with the pet rat.
They climb into a cab, both sliding into the air conditioning.
"Some fuckin' town you fuckin' got here."
"Excuse me sir?" The driver, not 100 percent sure of his two passengers, and the thought occurred to him, shit maybe I don't get paid, these guys gamooks, don't look too solid.
"It's like they got some fuckin' attitude, what with the snappy answers and shit."
"Not sure what you mean, sirs." Are we there yet?
"No fuckin problem, just fuckin' drive." Natch looking out the window as they hit the very nice area, big houses, large slices of property, swimming pools, gleaming luxury cars scattered about.
"This is the block sirs." Please, I'll slow down, you can jump out, don't worry about paying me, just get the hell outta' my cab.
"Do not stop this hunk of shit cab, just slow down." Nick had the address and as they passed the house, there's the fuckin' house, he watched, he looked, Natch watched, looked. "Ok, lets get outta' here."
"Where to sirs?" Shit, they ain't leaving,
"Back to the fuckin' hotel, and listen keep your fuckin mouth shit where we went, what we did, you got that Raul?" Nick looking at the driver's hack license.
"Yeah, forget we was here, forget where we went, we don't wanna come back here and throw you through a nice shinny window, you got that?" Natch smiled, the whole big fuckin plan was coming together as he sat and watched the scenery roll by.
NEXT: CHAPTER TWELVE: THE BIG FUCKIN' PLAN.
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