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""Searching"" -> (25 skipped) -> "Cool Mother ****" -> "Flotsam and jetsam (1)"

Flotsam and jetsam (2)  by dogdeity11

 

  Egg waited a minute before he made his way over to the bathroom. The band finished there current set and the house DJ cranked up the speakers. Motley Crue? Guns n’ Roses? Egg hated that heavy head throbbing ****.

He was a few feet away from the bathroom door when a tiny blond with huge **** darted in front of him and knocked lightly on the door.

“Hey in there…you awwight?”

Egg grinned. The tall Cuban was an absolute sex magnet. 

“It’s me, Josettea. You know, from the dance floor.” 

Egg moved up closer behind her, his hand on his weapon resting comfortably in his waistband.

“I wanted to make sure you was cool.”

Egg watched as her hand tried the handle. It was locked.

“Can I come in?”  

Egg tensed. This was the moment of truth. Would the **** let her in?

“Chure babee. Jew can come in.” 

Egg relaxed and inched his way forward until he was almost standing right on top of the young woman. The second the door was unlocked and opened he drove forward hard into her back.

Before Che knew what was happening Egg had his gun leveled at his head.

“Easy man. Jew do’n want to do anyting crazy. Remember…I invited jew here.”

Egg tensed his finger on the trigger.

“Oh god…please…please…just let me go.” The little blond was becoming hysterical.

“If I let you walk little sister, you promise not to go running your pretty little mouth?” Egg inquired.

“I won’t say….a word, to anyone I swear!”

Egg smiled at her out of the corner of his mouth.

“Mmm, I don’t know. There’s just something about blonds that leads me to mistrust.”

“Nooo, I swear to you. Just let me go and I’ll leave. I’ll run non-stop until I’m home and I wont say a word. Not to anyone! Not a **** word. Just please…”

“SHUT UP!” Egg yelled.

Startled by the outburst, the woman jumped backwards and lost her footing. On her way down she caught the back of her head on the sink.

“Aww man, look at wha jew did!”

Egg’s smiled never wavered as he took a few steps forward toward Che.

“You never mind about little miss sassy pants ya hear. You and me, well…we got us some special business to attend to.”

Che’s eyebrows narrowed. “What are jew talking about? Your bidness here is with that slut Shirley. Not with me. I know nothing about…”

“Take your pants off.”

Che froze mid sentence. The look in Eggs eyes told him he wasn’t kidding.

“Wha the **** man? Jew think dis is prison or something? I not taking my pants off for noone, jew hear me?”

“Oh your pants are coming off amigo. Whether you’re alive or not when it happens is entirely up to you.”

**** jew.”

Eggs smiled dissolved.

“Okay then, you have apparently made your choice.” He straightened his arm out and leveled the gun at Che’s head. He was just about to pull the trigger when the bathroom door burst open again and in sprang Toby.

Egg spun on his heels to face him, their guns both drawn, pointed at each other.

“Well well, what do we have here? Looks like a couple of dead homos to me.” Toby quipped.

“Hey…I aint no ****! jew hear me?”

“Shut up ****.” Egg offered through clenched teeth.

“Put the gun down Egg.”

“I’m terribly sorry Toby my boy, but you must have me mistaken for someone who is frightened of you. Now why don’t you put your weapon down…before you go and do something stupid like get yourself killed.”

Toby swallowed. His mouth was suddenly dry. His courage deserted him leaving the old confused, out of work, lazy Toby behind to handle this situation. Only now he wasn’t lounging around on his lay-z-boy watching Hawkeye and Winchester trade barbs. Now he was a participating member of a true to life Mexican stand-off…with a stone cold killer.

But he was a killer too wasn’t he? He could hold his own. Couldn’t he?

**** you.” There…now he felt better.

Egg smiled. It was on. And he was ready.

The air was tense as the two sneered at each other. In the background the DJ decided to switch gears and play some house music. Bass came thundering through the walls, vibrating through their bodies.

Che inched quietly backwards toward a stall. He figured with any luck the two idiots would kill each other and he could escape unharmed. He placed his hand on the stall door and began to push it backwards. Creaky hinges echoed loudly, filling the muted void in-between thumping bass beats.

Both men turned their heads, and their guns toward Che…

Then the room around them exploded.

 

***   

  Skeeter pulled himself across the floor of the dark stairwell toward the exit that the man and woman who shot him escaped through. His leg hurt like a mother ****. A bullet right in his knee cap. He glanced over his shoulder at Brett lying motionless in a widening pool of red. Dumb ****. That’s what he got for running around wailing like some lovesick schoolgirl. And over that **** wack job redhead!   

And where the hell was that **** Egg? He turned around and that faggot was gone! If he ever saw him again he was going to rip his damn heart out.

Skeeter finally made it to the door. He turned himself around and propped his back against it. Then he forced all his weight down on his one good leg and pushed himself up the door. Half way up he was able to reach the handle. He rested his fingers on it and was just about to turn it when the stairwell exploded in a blast of concrete debris and lightning. As the walls collapsed down on top of him Skeeter gave up his struggle and relaxed all his muscles. He imagined himself on a beach with JoJo and lil mosquito. The sun was high and hot and the air was salty and intoxicating. He reached out his hand and traced his fingers down JoJo’s arm to her tiny, delicate knuckles.

“I’m so sorry baby. All I ever wanted was to do good for you and lil mo. And now…”

“Shhh…it’s okay baby. Just close your eyes. Everything gonna be aaight. Just close your eyes.”

And so he did.              

 

***                                         

 

Smoke sat in the front seat of Mofo’s pimped out Cadillac, taking a long deep inhale off the pipe. Mofo stared at the burning nightclub in disbelief.

“Dude...”  Was all he could manage.

Smoke exhaled and looked over at the building himself. People were milling around the street, bloody and vacant. Black smoke billowed through the air. Several fires raged throughout the structure. For a moment, he felt a pang of guilt.

Then, he remembered the fat roll of hundreds in his pocket, and he smiled.

“You shoulda warned a brutha.” Mofo said in awe. 

“It’s all good. I got paid. An I about to share dat wealth wit you my nigga.”

“Shiit, now that’s what I’m talking about.” Mofo perked up.

“Yo, lets jet Mofo. We don wanna be anywhere near dis mufa when 5-0 shows.”

“I hear dat.”

 

***

  

Around the corner on the south side of the burning building, a stretch Limo sped away down Main Street, leaving in its wake a mass of carnage and debris.

Shirley pulled off her shoes and stretched out on the long side seat with a martini.

Wright smiled at her as he speared a couple of pimentos and sank them into his own glass.

“Martini huh? What happened to your favorite, scotch on the rocks?” She quizzed with a wry smile. 

Wright frowned. “Haven’t had much of a taste for it lately.” Then he winked at her.

“Well, it was all very convincing my dear.” She pouted. “I really believed that I was rid of you this time.”

“I’m not going to make it that easy for you.” Wright playfully offered back.

They clinked glasses in a celebratory toast.

“So tell me darling, just what exactly is so important about that damn south Florida property that had everyone scrambling around searching for those ridiculous colored folders?”  

Wright peered out of the limos window. In the distance he could still see the fiery blaze from ‘The Pageant.’ It made him warm inside to think that Shirley had created such a disaster. It made him want to be honest.

“Nothing.” Finally came his reply.

“Nothing?” Shirley asked as she popped a gin soaked olive in her mouth.

“Nope. Far as I know, there doesn’t even exist any south Florida Property. The deed is a forgery. Downloaded from the internet and doctored up to appear authentic.”

A silence fell between them as they both contemplated the truth.

“So…why then? Why all this?”

Wright moved across to sit on the seat next to her.

“Because I wanted Che dead.”

“Che?” Shirley gasped a laugh.

“MmmHmm. I brought that **** into this country to do some work for me and what does he do? How does he repay me?

“Oh come now Wright. Che was loyal. What did he ever do to betray you?”

“You mean besides try and kill me?”

Unable to control herself, Shirley burst out laughing.

“Seriously darling. You didn’t know he was going to try and kill you when you started this wild escapade. That was a plan I hatched up later on? Che was just following my orders”

Wright looked directly into her eyes. “You didn’t really want me dead did you?”

Shirley flashed the smile that had melted his heart since the first day he saw her.

“Of course not love.”

He didn’t buy it, but he also didn’t care. She made life interesting. She made it worth living.

“So, what about Che then? Why did you really want him dead.”

“I saw the way he looked at you.” Wright answered honestly. “I knew he wanted to have you.”

“Mmm, but he did have me.” Shirley teased.

“Yes, I know. All the more reason. I only wish I could have been there to see the life drain out of his eyes. Cuban ****.”

‘Tall, good looking, hard bodied Cuban ****.” Shirley added.

Wright grumbled.

"So, why not just kill him then? Why all the elaborate folders and moving parts?"

Wright smiled. "Thats just my style baby."

They toasted and clinked glasses again.  

After a deep sip Shirley continued...

“But what about all the other people Wright? Don’t you feel the least bit guilty? I mean, your own daughter for Christ’s sake?”

**** that little psycho. She’s been nothing but a pain in my **** her entire life.”

Shirley wanted to comment on how heartless that was, but drained her glass instead. Deep inside, she actually agreed with him.

“Well how about that poor boy Toby. He is so sweet.”

Wright grinned in remembrance.

“Yea, he was a good kid. But I controlled him for so long…getting him fired from his job, conning him into taking this one without really knowing what the hell was going on…it only seems fitting that I should control the end of his life too.”  

 “You speak of him as if he were already dead?”

Wright frowned again. “He is Shirl. I watched him rush back into the Pagenet. He was in there when the bomb blew.

Shirley grimaced and shrugged her shoulders. “C’est la vie.” Then held her hand out for a refill.

Wright took her glass.

“Okay, so what about all the others then. So many bodies laying in your wake.”

Wright turned grave with thought for a moment.

“Flotsam and jetsam.”

Shirley raised her eyebrows. Wright continued…

“They were just useless cargo my dear. Odds and ends we could throw overboard whenever the water got too rough.”

Shirley nodded in comprehension. “I see. Mere flotsam and jetsam on this sea of life.”

"More like sea of greed." Wright added as he handed her a full glass.

They both laughed. Then embraced.

As the driver chauffeured them away from the shipwrecked lives they left behind, they striped off their clothes and made passionate love.   

 

 

                     The end
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  'Flotsam and jetsam (2)' statistics: (click to read)
Date created: Sept. 27, 2008
Date published: Sept. 27, 2008
Comments: 1
Tags:
Word Count: 5236
Times Read: 580
Story Length: 2
Children Rank: 4.4/5.0 (4 votes)