Post by FPV on Feb 12, 2012 15:34:05 GMT -5
It's after closing time at an Italien bistro in Philadelphia, and the manager has gone home for the night. The moon is starting to creep onto the city. As the street lights go up, dimly illuminating the sidewalks, two people can be seen in an alleyway next to the bistro. One is wearing baggy jeans and a black hoodie, his hood up to cover his head, while the other is dressed similarly, except for his beanie hat.
Person #1: Aight bro, you got the stuff?
Person #2: Yeah man, I got the goods, you got the green?
#1: Uh hehe, yeah....about that....
#2: What the hell do you mean "About that"?
The first figure doesn't say anything. Suddenly the second person pulls out a butterfly knife and brings it to the other persons face, frightening him.
#2: Motherfucker you best not be playing fucking games with me now!
#1: Chill out bro, I got it...
#2: Then where the hell is it?! You better not be hiding something from me.
#1: I just need to...go to my boys house to pick it up...
#2: And just why is it at your boys house?
#1: (awkwardly pauses) Safe-keeping?
The second person violently jabs the knife right into the firsts neck, utterly destroying his jugular vein, and releasing a waterfall of blood down his neck as the knife sticks into his neck. The victim screams out for a brief moment, before succumbing to blood loss. The killer casually takes the knife out of his neck, blood splattered all over both himself and the knife.
#2: (sigh) Does any mofo in this world know how to do a job right?!
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Driving towards that same alley is FPV and Helms in the white Gran Torino. FPV is driving, looking to make sure he doesn't pass the destination up, while Helms sits in the passengers seat smoking a cigarette.
Helms: So whose the guy we're looking for here?
FPV: Name's Eric Smith. Some of the scouts I sent out caught him attempting to sell drugs.
Helms: Why do you say "attempt?"
FPV: Dude has absolutely no idea what the hell he's doing. They say he tries to hard to please dealers, and most of the time just manages to piss them off even more.
Helms: (chuckle) Well this should be interesting.
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#2: (sigh) Does any mofo in this world know how to do a job right?!
As the man begins to walk away from the scene, the headlights of the Gran Torino illuminate his back, catching his attention. The car stops, as he turns around to see what's happening. FPV gets out the car and sees the man, then looks down at the ground, seeing the fresh corpse laying there.
FPV: Well, guess this guy got to him before we did.
Helms: Damn, quite the bloody mess you've done here son.
#2: Who the fuck are you two bozos?
FPV: I'll put it simply: We apprehend criminals. And from what I'm seeing, you're a criminal.
#2: HA! Really, you think that little spiel's gonna' scare me?
FPV has a little smirk on his face.
FPV: I don't to scare you, I just need to beat you down badly enough.
And with that FPV charges at the criminal, trying to tackle him to the ground. However, the criminal gets the upper hand and tackles FPV instead. He gets down and steadys his knife, about to stab FPV in the face, and manages to noly drag it across the left side of his face before a gunshot is heard, and the man collapses onto FPV. A fresh bullet hole can be seen near the man's stomach, as blood pours onto FPVs shirt. FPV himself is losing blood over his eye, although the eye itself has not been damaged. Helms rushes over to the scene, smoking gun in his hand, to get the criminals body off of FPV.
Helms: Frank, you okay buddy?
FPV: Yeah...man...(trys to get up weakly)...I've seen worse. Did you kill him.
Helms: Nah-ah, just shot him bad enough to wear he'll be in alot of pain, I'm gonna' bring him back to the compound.
FPV stumbles a bit before standing up over the criminals body.
FPV: No, I'll take care of it, you get you a taxi and get the fuck out of here.
Helms: You sure? You look pretty bad right.
FPV: Dude...don't worry about it. I'll take care of it.
Helms: Allright, fine...
Helms runs off out of the alley and onto the sidewalk nearby, looking for a taxi.
FPV is now alone in the alley, with no company but the two bodies that surround him. He glances around at the scenery, taking note of all the blood that has painted nearly everything in the area. He touches his face before the stinging sensation of the wound forces him to pull his hand back. After the pain goes away, he kneels down next to Erics body, which is starting to smell at this point.
FPV: You don't deserve this. No one, not even criminals, deserve such an end. You have my utmost pity Mr. Smith.
FPV motions his hand to Smiths eyes, which are still open, and silently shuts them closed. He then goes to the still breathing criminal and kneels down, picking up his knife, which was still in his hand. FPV observes the knife (or whatever part isn't covered in blood) and looks over to the man.
FPV: I feel no pity for you, my friend. You've ended a life tonight, you could've ended plenty of other lives in the past, hell, you almost ended my life tonight. I could very well take this knife and end your miserable existence, but I won't. I'm not you. I'm not a criminal, I don't take the easy way out, I take the right way out. I'll be keeping the knife though, as a little memento to tonights events. Heck, I'll even keep the blood on it, just to remember it a little better.
FPV gets up and stands over both bodies, looking up at the night sky.
FPV: I have not seen this much blood in a long, long time. Brings back memories. Painful memories, but memories nonetheless. Donald, I understand you've been having some memories of your own. You used to be in a gang at the age of 12, if I recall correctly. My my, when I was your age back then I would be at the playground at school playing tag with all the other kids, not go beat people up. Apparently your gang life caught up with you and you got beat to a bloody pulp in an alleyway not to different from the one I'm in right now. I suppose it's served you right for your terrible judgement. But that is not what peeves me Donald, it's that you refused to tell anyone the truth about what happenned. Not a police officer, not your own mother, no one. I don't if you didn't want to let anyone know you were in a gang, if you were just being stubborn, but that is a mistake. At Slam, when your shoulders are on the ground and I rase your US Title in the air, who will be there to help you? No one, Donald. No one.
And, while it's still fresh in my mind, let's talk about your brother Donnie. You talk about how you aspired to be like him, how he had all the girls, all the friends, everything else and what not. You wanted to be Donnie. I'm sorry Donald, but you will never be the man that Donnie was. It makes no difference that you've been United States Champion 4 times, that you've been World Champion, that you pinned the unpinnable Torture, none of that will ever make you a great person, it will just make sure people know who you are. Everyone knows who Osama Bin Laden is, but was he great? Only in the eyes of suicide bombers. I'm not saying you're Osama Donald, I'm just making a point. Try, try all you want, but you will never be Donnie. You want to know why?
Because Donnie was willing to risk his life to protect the ones he loved, something you do not want to have any part in. Look at me Donald, I almost died tonight just so I could bring a criminal to justice. Donnie died an honorable American, who gave his life to make sure people like you can live in America and be content to just beat people up for a living...wait a minute..."beat people up?" Isn't that just what you used to do in a gang? I suppose you haven't changed at all Donald.
But, I suppose we should put the past behind us, right Donald? Well in that case, let's talk about your recent little episodes. Of all the things in the world a world-class champion like you could do to influence this companys reputation, you get into a petty argument over Twitter about the Television Championship. Donald, stop me if I'm wrong, but didn't you recently say that the Television Championship used to be nothing compared to the United States title, and haven't you made yourself out to the Americas Hero, not...oh, I don't know...Televisions Hero? Then why the FUCK are you FUCKING arguing over the FUCKING Television Championship on FUCKING Twitter?!
Twitter.
You argue with people over fucking Twitter. If the there was a desk in this alleyway I would bang my head against it so many times it wouldn't be funny. And you want to know the sad part about it Donald, you go and you say how you will win the championship and when the time comes to proth your worth, you blow it. *starts slowly clapping* Bravo Donald, Bravo! Not only have you shown me that you're a punk who can't grow a pair of balls, but you've also proven to me that no matter how many championships you've won, you can still manage to job to the guys you've been calling a doucebag over Twitter. Bra-motherFUCKING-vo.
Donald, I do believe this will be the only time I'll be able to get any more information into your brain, so listen carefully. At Slam, your reign of misfortune will continue. Your precious United State Championship will have a new home around my waist, your body will left as lifeless as Mr. Scumbag over here. Do you see all this blood Donald? I hope you do, because at Slam, this will be your blood, pouring out of the cuts and wounds of your body. And when the medical staff come and see you Donald, I hope you have a flashback back to that alleyway all those years ago, and I hope it'll make you think long and hard. And don't worry about not telling anyone what happenned, they'll know just by looking at you.
You make me sick Donald. I hope you realize that. Goodnight.
FPV ends his spiel and begins dragging the criminals body into his trunk.
Person #1: Aight bro, you got the stuff?
Person #2: Yeah man, I got the goods, you got the green?
#1: Uh hehe, yeah....about that....
#2: What the hell do you mean "About that"?
The first figure doesn't say anything. Suddenly the second person pulls out a butterfly knife and brings it to the other persons face, frightening him.
#2: Motherfucker you best not be playing fucking games with me now!
#1: Chill out bro, I got it...
#2: Then where the hell is it?! You better not be hiding something from me.
#1: I just need to...go to my boys house to pick it up...
#2: And just why is it at your boys house?
#1: (awkwardly pauses) Safe-keeping?
The second person violently jabs the knife right into the firsts neck, utterly destroying his jugular vein, and releasing a waterfall of blood down his neck as the knife sticks into his neck. The victim screams out for a brief moment, before succumbing to blood loss. The killer casually takes the knife out of his neck, blood splattered all over both himself and the knife.
#2: (sigh) Does any mofo in this world know how to do a job right?!
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Driving towards that same alley is FPV and Helms in the white Gran Torino. FPV is driving, looking to make sure he doesn't pass the destination up, while Helms sits in the passengers seat smoking a cigarette.
Helms: So whose the guy we're looking for here?
FPV: Name's Eric Smith. Some of the scouts I sent out caught him attempting to sell drugs.
Helms: Why do you say "attempt?"
FPV: Dude has absolutely no idea what the hell he's doing. They say he tries to hard to please dealers, and most of the time just manages to piss them off even more.
Helms: (chuckle) Well this should be interesting.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------
#2: (sigh) Does any mofo in this world know how to do a job right?!
As the man begins to walk away from the scene, the headlights of the Gran Torino illuminate his back, catching his attention. The car stops, as he turns around to see what's happening. FPV gets out the car and sees the man, then looks down at the ground, seeing the fresh corpse laying there.
FPV: Well, guess this guy got to him before we did.
Helms: Damn, quite the bloody mess you've done here son.
#2: Who the fuck are you two bozos?
FPV: I'll put it simply: We apprehend criminals. And from what I'm seeing, you're a criminal.
#2: HA! Really, you think that little spiel's gonna' scare me?
FPV has a little smirk on his face.
FPV: I don't to scare you, I just need to beat you down badly enough.
And with that FPV charges at the criminal, trying to tackle him to the ground. However, the criminal gets the upper hand and tackles FPV instead. He gets down and steadys his knife, about to stab FPV in the face, and manages to noly drag it across the left side of his face before a gunshot is heard, and the man collapses onto FPV. A fresh bullet hole can be seen near the man's stomach, as blood pours onto FPVs shirt. FPV himself is losing blood over his eye, although the eye itself has not been damaged. Helms rushes over to the scene, smoking gun in his hand, to get the criminals body off of FPV.
Helms: Frank, you okay buddy?
FPV: Yeah...man...(trys to get up weakly)...I've seen worse. Did you kill him.
Helms: Nah-ah, just shot him bad enough to wear he'll be in alot of pain, I'm gonna' bring him back to the compound.
FPV stumbles a bit before standing up over the criminals body.
FPV: No, I'll take care of it, you get you a taxi and get the fuck out of here.
Helms: You sure? You look pretty bad right.
FPV: Dude...don't worry about it. I'll take care of it.
Helms: Allright, fine...
Helms runs off out of the alley and onto the sidewalk nearby, looking for a taxi.
FPV is now alone in the alley, with no company but the two bodies that surround him. He glances around at the scenery, taking note of all the blood that has painted nearly everything in the area. He touches his face before the stinging sensation of the wound forces him to pull his hand back. After the pain goes away, he kneels down next to Erics body, which is starting to smell at this point.
FPV: You don't deserve this. No one, not even criminals, deserve such an end. You have my utmost pity Mr. Smith.
FPV motions his hand to Smiths eyes, which are still open, and silently shuts them closed. He then goes to the still breathing criminal and kneels down, picking up his knife, which was still in his hand. FPV observes the knife (or whatever part isn't covered in blood) and looks over to the man.
FPV: I feel no pity for you, my friend. You've ended a life tonight, you could've ended plenty of other lives in the past, hell, you almost ended my life tonight. I could very well take this knife and end your miserable existence, but I won't. I'm not you. I'm not a criminal, I don't take the easy way out, I take the right way out. I'll be keeping the knife though, as a little memento to tonights events. Heck, I'll even keep the blood on it, just to remember it a little better.
FPV gets up and stands over both bodies, looking up at the night sky.
FPV: I have not seen this much blood in a long, long time. Brings back memories. Painful memories, but memories nonetheless. Donald, I understand you've been having some memories of your own. You used to be in a gang at the age of 12, if I recall correctly. My my, when I was your age back then I would be at the playground at school playing tag with all the other kids, not go beat people up. Apparently your gang life caught up with you and you got beat to a bloody pulp in an alleyway not to different from the one I'm in right now. I suppose it's served you right for your terrible judgement. But that is not what peeves me Donald, it's that you refused to tell anyone the truth about what happenned. Not a police officer, not your own mother, no one. I don't if you didn't want to let anyone know you were in a gang, if you were just being stubborn, but that is a mistake. At Slam, when your shoulders are on the ground and I rase your US Title in the air, who will be there to help you? No one, Donald. No one.
And, while it's still fresh in my mind, let's talk about your brother Donnie. You talk about how you aspired to be like him, how he had all the girls, all the friends, everything else and what not. You wanted to be Donnie. I'm sorry Donald, but you will never be the man that Donnie was. It makes no difference that you've been United States Champion 4 times, that you've been World Champion, that you pinned the unpinnable Torture, none of that will ever make you a great person, it will just make sure people know who you are. Everyone knows who Osama Bin Laden is, but was he great? Only in the eyes of suicide bombers. I'm not saying you're Osama Donald, I'm just making a point. Try, try all you want, but you will never be Donnie. You want to know why?
Because Donnie was willing to risk his life to protect the ones he loved, something you do not want to have any part in. Look at me Donald, I almost died tonight just so I could bring a criminal to justice. Donnie died an honorable American, who gave his life to make sure people like you can live in America and be content to just beat people up for a living...wait a minute..."beat people up?" Isn't that just what you used to do in a gang? I suppose you haven't changed at all Donald.
But, I suppose we should put the past behind us, right Donald? Well in that case, let's talk about your recent little episodes. Of all the things in the world a world-class champion like you could do to influence this companys reputation, you get into a petty argument over Twitter about the Television Championship. Donald, stop me if I'm wrong, but didn't you recently say that the Television Championship used to be nothing compared to the United States title, and haven't you made yourself out to the Americas Hero, not...oh, I don't know...Televisions Hero? Then why the FUCK are you FUCKING arguing over the FUCKING Television Championship on FUCKING Twitter?!
Twitter.
You argue with people over fucking Twitter. If the there was a desk in this alleyway I would bang my head against it so many times it wouldn't be funny. And you want to know the sad part about it Donald, you go and you say how you will win the championship and when the time comes to proth your worth, you blow it. *starts slowly clapping* Bravo Donald, Bravo! Not only have you shown me that you're a punk who can't grow a pair of balls, but you've also proven to me that no matter how many championships you've won, you can still manage to job to the guys you've been calling a doucebag over Twitter. Bra-motherFUCKING-vo.
Donald, I do believe this will be the only time I'll be able to get any more information into your brain, so listen carefully. At Slam, your reign of misfortune will continue. Your precious United State Championship will have a new home around my waist, your body will left as lifeless as Mr. Scumbag over here. Do you see all this blood Donald? I hope you do, because at Slam, this will be your blood, pouring out of the cuts and wounds of your body. And when the medical staff come and see you Donald, I hope you have a flashback back to that alleyway all those years ago, and I hope it'll make you think long and hard. And don't worry about not telling anyone what happenned, they'll know just by looking at you.
You make me sick Donald. I hope you realize that. Goodnight.
FPV ends his spiel and begins dragging the criminals body into his trunk.
The evil that men do lives after them;
The good is oft interred with their bones;
-Mark Antony
The good is oft interred with their bones;
-Mark Antony
