Greg and Pete ended up being unloaded into a dusty grotty basement. And then they got tied to chairs.
Of all of the disastrous situations the lads had gotten themselves into since leaving home this present business with the Mafia was indeed out there as the most horrible experience of them all. YES it was everything horrible you could image! This new horrible experience was the elixir to gloom, the antidote to joy, the remedy against happiness! It was the ultimate of the most ultimate of crap to ever be experienced in the whole human experience and it was all disastrously conceived in one single place. Einstein would have been blown away to see so much calamity gathered in a single section of human space. If he had ever witnessed a portion of Pete and Greg's lives back in the day he would have addressed the faculty in one of his lectures with something like: 'Zis is impossible!' And this is from the man who penned the theory of relativity.
In other words the lads were in a pickle...
'Don't worry Greg. It might all be the work of the DT's,' said Pete, who was trying to be positive through all the horror of their current predicament. He truly did deserve a medal then. Most people would have completely broken down or died of a heart attack - but Pete was still with it and still positive. It was all pretty impressive really.
'Sorry Pete,' Greg replied glumly. 'We are stone sober right now. But gosh do I wish I was drunk. It might make this damn mess a little cleaner.'
The smartly dressed Italian introduced himself as Don Gambino Salvatore Maranzano Thins. He was pacing up and down restlessly chewing a toothpick and looking every now and then at a framed painting of his his beloved uncle LA Thins the master pool player.
The Don finally stopped his pacing to speak:
'You lads are fools to play games with me,' he said. 'My family have power in Fenwick. We have contacts in New York as well. Look! See that fine painting on the wall up there. That is my Uncle, LA Thins. Master pool player. All men feared him when he was alive. He offered the hand of friendship to the Kings during the Irish Wars. But the Kings bit his hand... They betrayed him. They stole his shop, his name... his memory. Now I am going to bite back even if it means fighting a war. I will do it all for my uncle and for my family. Do any of you in this room understand what I am saying?'
Greg and Pete were too scared to understand anything at that moment but they wagged their heads approvingly because that seemed the right thing to do in the moment.
'I offered a tender hand of friendship to the Kings,' the Don droned on. 'I gave them friendship. I forgave the Kings for their crimes against the family. We straightened things out with one another. We worked together for years. Our two families were finally bound by honour. But it was not enough! The treachery of the Kings cannot be stemmed. They are all thugs and killers. Savages. And then they stole from me. This is a debt that can only be repaid by blood. Now you are going to tell me what I want to know about the Kings. What is their next move?'
'I know nothing about the Kings,' Greg replied with a stammer.
'I don't even know who they are,' said Pete choking on his tears.
'You are both very good actors I will give you that,' said the Don. 'The Kings bought quality when they invested in you two. First class actors, but second class liars. Because you see I can tell you are lying to me. You will talk. Do you hear? You will talk and you will tell me EVERYTHING.'
'Listen mate! You have got the wrong guys,' said Greg.
The Don turned and slapped Greg clean around the face.
'Like I said I am going to give you time to think,' the Don went on. 'When I return you will speak and you will tell me what I want to hear.'
There was another person in the room. The Don switched the lights on. It was Vance.
Of course it was...
This is what the Don said to him:
'As for you, King. For you the nightmare has only just to begun...' After that the Don walked away slamming the basement door shut behind him as he left the scene.
The three of them were on their own at last.
So there was Vance, looking in bad shape and all tied up. Weird thing is it looked like he was actually enjoying the experience. There was a smile on his face. He looked happy. It made no sense at all. Vance really was a weird penny in a purse...
'Don't worry lads,' said Vance with a cheereful beat in his voice.
'Don't worry! We are not worried, Vance. NO! We are flipping terrified,' Greg replied.
'There is no need to feel that way! Listen! It's all fake' said Vance.
WHAT?
Pete and Greg were confused and they were indeed well within their rights to feel that way...
What did Vance mean it was ALL fake?
They asked Vance to explain himself.
'It's a setup. All of it. I paid for this experience,' said Vance. 'That's right! I paid to get kidnapped!'
'You paid money to set this all up?' said Greg. Greg was plainly confused as ever, but also a little relieved as well. 'If what you are saying is true then I am glad of course!' Greg went on. 'Please tell me you are being serious with us right now?'
'Don't worry lads! It is ALL cool! I have a CODE word that get us out of this fix! It is true! As soon as I use the CODE they will let us go home,' said Vance.
As soon as Pete heard this he stopped crying. 'Why would you want to experience something as horrible as this?' he said. 'I mean why would you waste money just to be terrified to death by insane gangsters?'
'For the thrill!' Vance replied calmly. 'It is something weird I am into, that's all.'
THAT'S ALL????
'You get to my age and you have seen it all,' said Vance wistfully. He sounded like he was talking about some fine old memory of when he used to take his pet dog for a walk in the fields, not about paying people to kidnap him for fun. 'I have sampled every drug every drink - everything,' Vance droned on. 'I have been in a war I was in the Falklands. I have tasted all that life has to give. There is no more thrill in just being. Some people they like to settle down, and I get it. But that ain't me, lads. That ain't me. I never wanted to settle down. My uncle used to kick me for it. He told me I was carrying the King name. My uncle can't have kids, you see. He wanted me to have kids. I didn't want kids. I have had plenty of chances... But... I just can't settle down! I can't do it!'
'So you pay the Mafia to kidnap you instead?' said Greg.
'That is my whole life there on a silver platter,' said Vance. He sighed before he continued. 'I am addicted to being kidnapped. I can't help,' he said. 'Nothing else in the world gives me such a rush. I am a man of the world. I have jumped out of aeroplanes, jumped out of cars stood in front of trains - but nothing in the world quite beats being kidnapped by armed and dangerous thugs.'
It was obvious to all who knew Vance by now that the man was plainly weird. But being kidnapped for fun? Really? How weird does weird actually get - that's what Greg was thinking right then as he sat and squirmed in that gloomy room under the ground.
Yes. Vance was definitely up there in the list of highly weird human beings. He might actually take pole position on that grid!
'I know what you are thinking,' Vance went on. 'Yeah. I am disturbed. I know. But I like being this way. I would rather be disturbed than, you know, like most other people and let's be honest most people are just as interesting as plank of wood. Actually, no, I am wrong. A plank of wood is actually quite interesting if you think about it, I mean you can whittle it down and make something good out of it if you but try. You cannot do that with people. That's why I like being who I am. I am a broken soul, and that is good! A broken soul is like broken glass - sharp but beautiful. The sun glistens in the broken glass and shimmers and when it does that the glass is like diamonds - beautiful, priceless. You get the same thing with a human who operates through life with fully defeated soul. That's me, completely destroyed, and I am proud of myself and I love being this way. I can tell you how I got started on this broken path, but it is quite a story. You guys want to listen to it?'
The lads said they would listen. I mean what else were they going to do - all helpless and tied up. 'Go on then Vance tell us your story,' they said.
And Vance told his story: 'My first memory is of when I was three years old. My parents used to go for long walks around the Deadrock Bay. That is where I was attacked by a huge golden eagle. A vast creature all feathers and wings and claws. That fine bird pulled me out of my pram and carried me five feet into the air, so my father later told me. The animal was going to dash me against the rocks of the bay but my father caught me and saved me in time. But I will never forget the memory of that beautiful eagle... Such a gorgeous bird. The best. The memory of that winged thing has always stayed with me. Do you want to know what it was about the bird I liked the best? It was its eyes, and its face. The eagle had an innocent look in its eyes. A beautiful look. I will never forget it. Such beauty such innocence, like a child on an adventure that is how it was with that bird. You see the thing about the eagle is that kills, yes it does, but it kills in an innocent and goodly way. It kills because it must. It has to. It kills to live. I will never forget the look of that beautiful creature - the look of innocence in its lovely eyes. Nature alive! One of Gods most beautiful pieces of work... When the eagle attacked me I was never afraid through any of it not for a single second. NO! Child that I was back then I never cried. How could I cry a single tear when I saw the innocent look in that creatures noble face. These days when I think back on that beautiful memory I feel a note of sadness but not for me. I feel sad for the eagle. By my death I would have filled the bellies of a full family of eagles... Because I was too fat and heavy the eagle couldn't carry me away, and its hatchlings may have all died because of that. All of its babies dead on my account. That thought haunts me. It has haunted me forever - the thought that those baby eagles died because I was such stupid fat baby. I should have died that day so those beautiful eagles could have lived on. I carry the guilt of those dead eagles in my blood. And that is why I do what I do. I have to live like this - I have to be punished. I must suffer for the memory of those beautiful winged beasts. Sigh! I just can't get the memory of it out of my head, lads - the sight of those beautiful innocent eyes. Such lovely eyes...'
Just then the door leading into the basement broke open and a good number of armoured police poured in. One of them fired a shot, probably to scare the lads! The captain of this squad raised his weapon and pointed it at each of the men in turn, finally squaring off with Greg he said, 'Stay completely still! You are ALL under arrest!'
Greg thought it was a joke. I mean how could he not do anything else but stay still? He was all tied up - he was not going anywhere! So confident that these armoured and dangerous looking men were all part of the game like the Mafia, Greg turned and looked at Vance and said out loud, 'I suppose you have got a CODE as well to get rid of this lot, eh?'
And Vance replied, sadly, 'Sorry lads! These guys are for real!'
DAMN!
The three men were untied and then marched out of the basement and then on into the back of a van.
An hour later and they were all in a police station. The three men were separated and put into holding cells - and there they were made to wait goodness knows how long, could have been day. Could have been longer. They received no food no water. It looked like they had been left to rot.
Greg wanted to cry he was so depressed.
It was in that most hideous moment of his life that the cell door opened and Constable Maddox, head of the department, filled the room. Yes. He filled it literally. He was quite a big man - he had a real frightening aura and a shadow that looked like a second person that was about to lunge at you. He was a frightening guy.
Greg had no idea what was going to happen next!
He was completely at the mercy of the Constable.
'Does this look familiar to you?' said the Constable holding up a loo roll.
Greg stammered. He was very afraid.
He didn't want to admit that he knew anything about a certain mischievous loo roll thief... But then he didn't want to spend another day locked in prison.
So his heart gave in and he decided to tell the truth.
This is what he said - a confession from Greg:
'Yes. I have seen a few of those... But it was NOTHING to do with me I swear! My mate Pete is the same as me! We know nothing! We were looking to get into town and we just hitched a ride with this guy... We didn't know who he was...'
'So you admit you know about the loo roll theft?' said the Constable in a very daunting voice.
'No... not really. Look, sir, this guy called Vance turns up on his wheels and offers us a lift. Along the way he showed us where he lived... for some reason... we didn't ask why but he did. And then after that everything just went mad. I would go as far as to say that Pete and I are victims in all this crazy loo roll business.'
'Let's say I believe you and I let you go, where will you go?' said the Constable. 'You guys are young. You should be at school taking your lessons building a future for yourselves. How do I know if I open the door and let you out you will not become entangled with the loo roll theft business again? Vance is a very powerful and persuasive man. Give me some assurance that you will not let him reel you back in. Reel you in like a full loo roll.'
'I promise you! I will go back home and go back to school...'
'Write your name on this piece of paper,' said the menacing Constable. 'That will be your assurety to me that you will not get involved with this business again. Now I want your number and your address. Your parents will have to know about this disgrace. I want you kids at school - not getting involved with known and dangerous criminals. That is not a good sign for our future. Are we clear about that, boy?'
'As clear as a summers sky sir!'
'Well I don't know about that,' said the Constable. 'Sometimes summer skies have occasional clouds. I pray there are no clouds in your words?' The constable did not trust Greg and still felt the need to press the lad.
Greg was very afraid, but he stayed true to his conscience.
'Not a cloud not a speck in the sky!' Greg replied bravely. 'No sir! It is one of those high summer days when the skies are totally clear I promise,' he said.
Constable Maddox took a deep breath. He looked satisfied with Greg's reply.
'Good man,' the Constable returned. 'Now I am going to let you and your friend go. But in future you stay away from Vance King. You DO NOT want to end up like him!'
'O don't worry sir! We will definitely not end up being like him of that I can promise!' said Greg confidently.
After that the police let Greg go.
WHAT A RELIEF!
Greg met Pete at the back of the station where they dumped all the trash.
Pete looked pretty shaken but he was all in one piece, thank goodness.
The police gave them back their valuables and also very weirdly their bag that was full of bottles of the spiced wine and other high alcoholic and extremely toxic beverages... It seemed bizarre that the police didn't rife through their belongings and seize the contraband I mean the bottle of 90 proof G-Juice was enough to land a man three months in jail... But ah well - when luck wants to offer you a good turn you never turn it down and you never ask it WHY. You just take it and you enjoy it.
'Well perhaps they just didn't want the booze to go waste,' said Pete examining the contents of the bag. 'But I tell you what mate I fancy getting wasted right now!'
'I do as well mate,' Greg replied. 'Let us kill some brain cells and perhaps we will forget the whole damn nightmare we have just experienced.'
'Right let's do it!' said Pete.
With that the lads whipped out a bottle each and started to glug.
The good times were back on!
To Read GOX part 7 click here.
For more adventures set in the town of Fenwick check out:
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