Jim's Subway 36: ...Jim Loves his Life...??

Butch handed Jim over to the two armed men.

  'Best of luck,' said Butch, before he holstered his weapon and left.

  Jim was seething.  "Nice one Butch.  Leave me in the clutches of these lunatics and walk home happy as pie.  You are such a great mate!"  (Jim was thinking other such angry words as well, but they will not be repeated here and simply left to the imagination of the reader.)  

  The two armed men were carrying the mark of the Tailors on their wrists.

  This was starting to look like a very bad business indeed...

  They marched Jim down towards and finally into the final carriage.

  The door standing in front of them was made of steel and it was locked by a computer program.  

  'It's bullet proof,' one of the men explained.

  There was a camera in the corner and its dark lens was glaring back down on them.

  The lens moved when Jim moved...

  O yes!  He was being watched!

  Jim was told that the boss wanted to see him at once.

  'How flattering,' Jim replied sarcastically.

  One of the men nudged him with his gun.

  'Be careful son,' he replied.  'You are standing right now on the edge of a knife and you don't know it.  But you will do if you carry on talking like that.  Now let me tell you a few things:

  'The boss is a very private man.  He has a lot of enemies and he doesn't need anymore.  He lives in this train inside a bullet proof carriage.  He talks to no one except the Banker, the President, and a few other dignitaries who will not be named.  So show some respect in his presence.  You are among the honoured few right now.  Not even we are allowed to talk to him, and we have to fight and die for him remember.  If I was to enter that room now I would be shot dead.  Know that, and remember it Jim.  You are in a very dangerous place right now, so be careful.  Take my words as a friendly warning.  This is no joke.  Don't act a fool.  Death is dancing before you, beneath you and all around you.  Step and speak with caution.  Those are my words!  HEar them and obide!'

  'I feel so comfortable right now,' said Jim, continuing with the sarcasm - to annoy his captors of course!  I mean, look at everything from Jim's point of view:

  He was about to be killed so he might as well have some fun, right?  

  The second armed man poked Jim in the ribs with the nozzle of his gun.

  'Pipe down boy,' he replied.  'We won't have that kind of talk here!  You need to change your attitude!  The boss does not like cocky fools!  He shoots fools, and right now you are walking right into the line of fire.  I would shoot you now, if it were not for the boss holding me back.  But he wants you alive for some reason.  Lucky you, hey?'

  'Lucky me indeed,' Jim replied.  'Your boss must be a very kind man.  It's just a shame his lackeys are deranged animals that would do better locked behind a cage in a zoo entertaining the eyes of baffled onlookers...'

  'Such insults are only allowed to flow freely from your mouth because the boss allows it,' the thug went on.  'I only hope the boss gives the order after he has met you, and if he does I will be there to pull the trigger, and I will do it without a quiver of a finger.'

  'O how I love being threatened!  And how do I know that your guns are even loaded?  Damn!  How do I know your guns are even real?  You know what the laws are like in this country prohibiting weapons?  If the might of the Brazilian Army can't smuggle arms onto the United Kingdom how am I supposed to believe you guys can?  I mean, at the end of the day, your just the Tailors?  I mean, who are you really other than some weirdo cult?'

  'O son you are a fool!' the armed thug replied with a grin.  'Our guns are real.  I would love to prove that to you now.  But listen to this: The Tailors are in collaboration with the British Government.  Maybe that will convince you of the real truth of my words?  When we want guns the British Government will provide.  It is good to have friends in high places!  The Royals make very fine bedfellows indeed!'

  Jim shut his mouth after that.

  If these lunatics really were aligned to the Government then an already very bad business had just gotten a great deal badder...

  How did my life come to this?

  I was working class man renting a flat...  How did I find myself up to my neck in guns and cartels?  

  All of this madness and just because I enjoyed a drink...

  I should have stayed sober!

  I should have stayed sober...

  There was a loud clank sound at the one end of the train and then Jim heard the crackle of a radio above him:

  'I will speak with the subject,' said a voice through the computer.  A red light on a side panel turned to green and then the door slid open.       

  The armed men nudged Jim in through the entrance and the metal door slid shut again behind him.

  Jim had been expecting to see a dungeon on the other side - or something alike.  His experience with the Brazilian Cartel had left him with a nasty dent in his memory.

  But NO!

  This time there was a very lovely and very lavish office space, with plush chairs and a wonderful smell.  Everything in this room was rich and very clean looking.  This was a wealthy man's apartment indeed!

  No paupers here!

  And Jim as not alone:  

  A strange tall man who looked like a cross between a doll and a robot rose from a large leather seat to greet him.  This stranger was wearing black glasses so you could not see his eyes.  His hair was white and straight to the shoulder.  He walked very slowly across the room to Jim with these strange stiff robot-like movements.  Eventually, when he was about a foot away, he introduced himself:

  'My name is Mr Grey.  This is my train.  Welcome aboard.'  

  Mr Grey, hey?  

  So this man was presumably the one the Tailors referred to as the boss?

  The man was creepy, and weird, and he thoroughly freaked Jim out.  And Jim had NO intentions on hiding his fear either.  He was too tired and too scared to hide how he felt from people anymore, even from dangerous strangers like Mr Grey.

  'Look here and let me tell you something, Mr Grey!' Jim started.  'I am scared to death.  I have been pushed and shoved this way and that for weeks now and I can't take it anymore.  It's not fair!  All I wanted to do was make an honest buck for myself and my friends.  And ever since I have started my business people have been trying to kill me and I just can't take it anymore.  So please, Mr Grey, boss, whatever you want me to call you - if you are going to kill me then for goodness sake just do it.  And quickly.  And preferably without a chainsaw being involved.  A bullet to the head will be just as good - in fact if you were to let me hold the gun I would just put it into my mouth and...'

  'Be silent,' Grey replied, softly.

  Jim did as he was told and became very Very silent.

  Mr Grey continued:

  'I find you to be a very impressive man, Jim!'

  Grey said this all the while maintaining this cold, metal, robotic look.

  In the moment Jim thought he was actually being hoaxed.

  'Are you taking the Mick?' Jim replied.

  Grey was unamused by Jim's answer, and he said this in response:

  'Look at me, Jim.  Look at my face.  Look at my eyes - ' and he quickly lifted up his glasses, giving Jim a flash of his deep dark ovals before bringing them back down again.  'Do I look like the kind of man who makes jokes?  Let me answer the question for you.  The Answer to the question is:  NO.  Are we finished with jokes.  Yes?  Are you ready to listen to me sensibly?  Good?  I see you nodding your head!  Marvellous.  Now listen to me very carefully.  I like you Jim.  You have done a lot of good work in this town of Fenwick since your arrival.  You have brought drama, gossip and business.  These things entwined are beneficial to our town and I thank you for it.  Especially for the latter, indeed.  You have lit a spark here in this musty dry and dead old place.  You have brought Fenwick back to life!  And for that you are under our protection.  You are a Tailor now, one and whole.  Hold your head up with pride when you begin to walk the streets of Fenwick again, my dear Jim.  You not only carry our mark, but you carry our power as well.  This is a very good day for you, Jim!'

  'Forgive me, Mr Grey, if I don't sound very appreciative.  It's just I am so confused right now I really don't know what to say...'

  'Well lucky for you I do,' Grey responded.  'I have been watching you.  I have cameras spread across this whole town...'

  'I didn't see them,' said Jim.

  'That is the point,' Grey replied.  'When I saw you step off the train for the first time I knew you had potential.   I knew you were destined to be one of us.  You were an outsider even in your own world.  You had no loyalties.  And yet you still had ambition.  You were perfect for our cause.  And that is why I recruited you, and ultimately why I have brought you here.'

  'But I betrayed you?' said Jim.  'I took money from you.  I tried to run away.  Our relationship has been a disaster from beginning to end!'  

  'No.  Jim.  It has not!' said Grey.  'You have been on trial.  We set a test for you, and you have passed.'

  'I can't see how I have passed anything except a lot of alcohol and bad luck...' said Jim.  'Please, Grey!  If you are not going to kill me then have the decency to refrain from speaking to me in riddles.  I am not an intelligent man, that much must be obvious.  I would not be in this mess I am in right now if I was in the least bit smart.  So I beg you, sir, boss, whatever you want me to call you.  Please tell me what in all the green and grassy fields of heaven is actually going on right now?'

  'I saw your fight with the Brazilians.  It was spectacular,' Grey replied.  'They had loaded weapons trained on you and you disabled them both with your bare fists.  Few men in my arsenal can lay claim to such an amazing feat of bravery.  When I saw you complete this deed I knew you were the one.  You did not require a hormonal injection - and we don't need you fighting for the Americans across the sea.  We need you here in Fenwick, fighting the war against the Brazilians.  For it is a war, alas, my dear friend.  A war indeed.  And please, just call me Mr Grey.'

  'Okay, Mr Grey.  Let me thank you for the compliment, it's very nice, but those guns the Brazilians were using weren't loaded,' said Jim.  'If you were watching as you say you were, on a secret camera somewhere, you would have heard them tell me that their guns were fake?  So I was just fighting for my life, bare fist against bare fist!  I guess I just had more adrenaline at the time and it helped get me out of the mess I was in.'

  'You are too modest, Jim,' Mr Grey responded.  'How did you know that those guns really were fake?'

  'Because of UK law?'

  'And you really trust the word of the Brazilian Cartel?' Mr Grey returned.  'What if they were goading you into an attack just so they had an excuse to shoot you down?  Trickery is the way of the Cartel.  I have dealt with this enemy for all my life.  NO.  Those guns were real and they were loaded, but you attacked them empty handed nevertheless!  I have never seen such bravery before!'

  'You are building me up to be some type of hero here, Mr Grey!  But you are wrong...'

  'Right or wrong, who cares?' said Mr Grey.  'Whatever, the Brazilians have been dealt a heavy blow by your brave hand.  The war rages on, still, but that is not our concern right now.  Our concern at this moment is making the money to fight that war.  And you are the man with the money right now, Jim.'

  'I don't see how that can be so?'

  'Again, you astonish me with your modesty, Jim,' said Mr Grey.  'Your product, G-Juice, is loved by all in the streets of this town and beyond as well.  The deal you have just signed with the Kings is going to make you both a fortune.  I am going to be frank with you, Jim.  I would like a cut of that fortune.  And in return you will have immunity, and something better than that:  I will order the present Banker to retire.  You can have the keys to his house.  You will be the most powerful man in town...except me.  How does that sound, Jim?  Don't look at me like that, Jim!  Have I not proven myself yet to be your friend?  I am not trying to trick you!  Let go of all doubt!  Destroy the shadow of negativity in your brain.  Embrace the light of the future.  Embrace business between me and you!  We can do this!  Don't worry!  The old banker is a fool, and makes us no money.  YOU, on the other hand, are young and fresh and full of ambition!  Yes!  You heard me.  The reason I liked you in the first place is because you are ambitious!  You want to be rich, Jim.  You want to make a name for yourself!  And here we are, and here you are, so let us make a name for you - together!  All we want is a cut of your G-Juice fame.  I am non-alcoholic but I sipped some of your product and it truly did meet my approval.  You are quite the artist in drink, my dear Jim!'

  Jim had been backed into a corner, indeed, but even he had to admit it was quite a nice corner to be backed into, because it led to two things - wealth and status.

  So he obviously gave in and agreed to Mr Grey's terms.

  Why not?

  I mean he was a dead man thirty minutes ago - and now he was a hero!

  I will take the Bankers job!

  They shook hands.

  'You are a fine man, Jim,' said Mr Grey.  'With your help, and, ahem, money, we will drive the Brazilian militia out of our town and end this dreadful war!'

  'O I hope so,' Jim replied.  'Those Brazilian's are cunning souls.  You know they tried to kill me with a chainsaw?'  

  'Did they hurt you?'

  'No.  I few bruises on my knuckles - nothing a plaster and a bit of antiseptic couldn't solve.'

  Grey nodded and continued:

  'Things are going quite well right now in the war but we still need to remain cautious!'  And then Mr Grey became suddenly grave and even more robot-like.  Something seemed to be upsetting him, deep inside.  'The money your business creates will help in the war, for sure, we might be able to secure the line...   But not forever!'

  And Jim asked, why not forever?

  'Our intelligence reports that the Brazilians might be planning on opening a second front on Fenwick by aligning with Ireland...'

  'I don't think the Irish have a very big army,' Jim replied.  'I mean I am no geopolitician but I read something somewhere about Ireland and three tanks...'

  Mr Grey slapped Jim round the face.  'Your ignorance amazes me!' Mr Grey replied, angrily, and with great frustration.  'Have you not heard of Project Weight-Loss?  No.  Of course not.  I forget, Jim.  You are many things except a politician.  Project Weight-Loss was signed during the early nineties.  The four big countries, USA, China, the Isle of Man, and uhhhh...  O yes, sorry, Russia, I forgot for a minute about that last one...  They all grouped together to supply Ireland with a mega stash of military resources to match that of any other country.  Ireland was designed to serve as a global super weapon either to defend or evaporate the world.  If Ireland betrays Project Weight-Loss and the Global Alliance and decides to throw its lot in with the Brazilians then this war is over for us people here in Fenwick.  The Tailors will be destroyed forever.  And you and I, Jim, will die.  Our story will end in these blood and charcoal stained streets!'

  'Damn!  That really does sound a bad business!' said Jim, in deep thought.

  Jim really didn't realise our bad the situation was, not just for him, but for the whole world in general.

  He could not have imagined it either, that Fenwick, a town he had never heard of before in all his life, was at the centre of world politics.  

  'The fate of the whole world may lie on our actions.  But let's not worry about that for now,' said Mr Grey.  'We need to focus on the present.  We need to focus on business.  Your business, Mr Jim!  We Tailors trust in you and we believe in you as well.  And even though you have passed the test, we have one last task for you to complete.  Complete this last task and we will give you the keys to the Bankers House!'

  One last task?  But what could that be?

  'What do you want me to do?' said Jim.

  And Mr Grey replied, in his solemn robot-like voice:

  'We want you to kill your friend, Butch!'

(Remember!  All spelling errors and grammatical mistakes are intentional - the author 😆)

Previous part here

===========================================================

Also take a look at:
My Games
Play Give 'em Hell
Play Elfin Quest
Witches Brew a short text based adventure game!
Also take a look at:
My YouTube Channel
My Books

THE LEGEND OF RUDWIN REVIEW

Lost in the Mist: I read my poem

===========================================================

Also take a look at:
My Games
Play Give 'em Hell
Play Elfin Quest
Witches Brew a short text based adventure game!
Also take a look at:
My YouTube Channel
My Books

THE LEGEND OF RUDWIN REVIEW

MY LAND!!!

 Mike King opened the door.
  Welcome to High Hill Manor!

  With the formalities over the gamekeeper made his way over to the living room, and throwing himself down on one of the seats like he owned the place waited to be asked for a drink.

  Mike poured the gamekeeper a whiskey from the decanter.  Handing the rough man over the filled glass he asked how how his day had been.

  Mike was always interested in the work habits of his staff...

  'It's nice to hear that things are going well, Ralph,' said Mike as he poured another drink.  That one was for himself.  

  Ralph kicked off his boots and after sipping his whiskey he replied, 'The weather has been real fine today!'  He was starting to relax.  'I mean it rained all day yesterday.  Totally mad.  Now it's bright and hot.  But a nice cool March wind to keep things calm.  Just fine and right for a days work.'

  'Did you catch that pesky poacher?  He has been at large in my lands for three months now.  I am losing a small fortune to that rascal!'

  'I have not managed to hoodwink the devil, not yet, but fear not for I am on their trial!  Hot on it, in fact.'

  'Tush!  Let it roll!  It is what it is.  I should not let it bother me so much.  It's just well, money is money and all that.  And we all need money these days, even me...'

  'Nah!  You are rich man!  You own this whole estate!  A couple of poachers here and there are not going to hurt you!'

  Ralph was joking but both men laughed and clashed glasses.

  What a thing!

  'How are things with you at home?' said Mike.  'Is everyone settled in?  I hear you moved recently?  Listen!  If you need help with anything just let me know!'

  'Thank you Mike!  But everything is fine.  The move went well.  And we are settling just as fine.  Thank you for giving my brother a job in the stables.  He is a hard worker and he will do you proud.  Like me, I guess!'  They both laughed.

  Such a fine joke to play!

  'I like our brother.  He is a fine fellow,' Mike replied.  'And how is my mother?  I hear the marriage went well?'

  'It did indeed,' Ralph replied.  'It was one of the happiest days of my life.'

  'I am glad to hear that.'

  'I didn't believe that life gave second chances, not after Meg, but when I led your mother down the aisle in her wheelchair, well, there are not many words I can use to describe how wonderful that feeling was.' said Ralph.  'Honestly, Mike, I could have wept with happiness.  It was like I was being given a second chance at happiness.  I mean that in all honestly.  Thank you, Mike, for supporting me in the way that you did.  I knew your father when he was alive, and he would not have agreed to the marriage.  He would have tired to stop it.  You could have tried.  But you didn't.  So I thank you for your support and for your favour as well.  I am debt to you!'

  'Yes indeed!  You are in debt, literally.  Don't forget the loan I gave you, Ralph... I leant you a lot of money!' said Mike.  'It all needs repaying...'

  'I thought we talked that over,' Ralph replied, turning very serious.  'We agreed that I would pay you when I could.  And these last few days I have been hunting that poacher for free.  That means you owe me, really, especially if we think about this ethically...'

  Mike heard this and it made him chuckle.

  But was Mike happy, or was he angry?

  Ralph was unable to work it out.

  'What a generous man am I?' Mike pressed on.  'I throw the money left and right and expect nothing in return for it.  I mean if my ancestors were anything like me they would never have become rich in the first place!'

  'Come now.  There is no need to be like that!'

  'Oh!  I think there is every reason to be like that,' Mike returned, aggressively.  'You have spent the last six years using me as your own personal bank account.  But it wasn't enough, was it.  You had to marry into the family as well.  You waited for my father to die and then you made your move...'

  'Your mother and I love one another very much,' Ralph replied sombrely.

  'Don't lie to me!' Miked snapped back.  'You are a young buck in your twenties.  She is sixty years older than you!

  'O!  I can see through you, Ralph!  You married her for the estate and nothing more.  After all, what is to stand against you taking the title of squire one day?  Me?  That's all.  An old men who will be dead soon.  I have no siblings, no children.  All you would have to do is ride out a few years and then take the whole prize in one go.  Nice plan, Ralph.  You are very clever, for one so young.  But I see through your game.  From the moment you rolled the dice, I saw you.  From the moment you played your hand, I saw you.  From the moment I met your eyes, I saw you; when you stood in my hall and looked on my chair and fancied it for yourself I saw you.  And now I know you to be that thing I needed least to see in front of my eyes.'

  'Pipe down!' Ralph replied.  'You cannot speak to me this way!  I am a member of the family now!'

  'Don't make me laugh!' said Mike.  'You truly are the crier of nonsense!  You say family?  Really?  You lied your way into my hall!  Family?  You are delusional!'

  'But I am family, Mike.  Exactly that!  And you can spit and cuss and say what you like, but there is no denying the fact that I am part of this house now.  Permanently.  It is your mothers wish, that I her new husband play a greater role in the running of this estate.  Things are going to change around here, Mike.  I am not the humble gamekeeper I was a month ago.  When I placed that ring on your mothers finger I became part of this little empire of yours.  One and whole.  There will be more than one boss from now on.  Every decision you make for change must be run by me for review.  That is how it is going to be from now on.  So get used to it, Mike.'

  When Mike heard this his temper grew so hot that he smashed the glass in his hand!

  'Damn and darn you!' he replied.  'You have got it all worked out haven't you?  Get your feet under the table, trick my mother, and now the final killing blow.  It's time to scoop up the keys to the kingdom.  Nice plan, but it won't work, son, not on my watch!  I will die before I see you on the throne...  Or is that your plan?'

  'Don't be absurd!' said Ralph.  'You spend too much time stuck in this house, drinking whiskey, that you have lost your mind.  You are a fantasist!  I just want a good life.  A peaceful life.  And I want to share it with your mother...'

  'She is ninety six years old and can't talk!'

  'I don't care.  It's her heart that I love.'

  'You don't even know her, not really.'

  'I know her in my dreams.  I know her in my soul...'

  'Rubbish!  You are full of gibberish!  You are the one who is mad to think you could get away with doing any of this!  She does not love you!  You tricked her!  You conned a sick woman into courting you.  But you won't win this sick little game of yours!  O!  You have played the game so far, and fair play to you son you have played the game well.  I am impressed.  You have got yourself in the hall.  A slice of he pie sits in your belly.  But you won't get the time to digest it.  Because I am taking the knife to your guts!  O you wait and see!  The knife is brandished and hot!  You will see.'

  'You are threatening me now?'

  'Yes.  It is that obvious, Ralph?'

  'You can't do that.  I am married to your mother.  You cannot threaten to kill me!  Your actions are illegal!'

  'Are they?  It's just you and me now, in this room.  There is no one else to see us or hear us.  I can say what I like.  You can't prove anything in a court.  So don't come at me with this legal nonsense that you don't understand.'

  'I don't have to put up with this!  I should leave, and go be with the woman I love!'

  'You are going nowhere!  And certainly nowhere near my mother!  She is sick and bedridden!  You do not love her, scum.  I should kill you now!'

  'You are an idiot!' said Ralph taking Mike by surprise.

  Ralph was very calm, and there was even a smile on his face.

  'If this is, as you proclaim, a game that I am playing, then you have lost!' he continued.  'I am married to your mother and that makes me the head of the house.  And one day, very soon, I will be the head of everything else as well.  To think I was homeless ten years ago...  forced into bankruptcy by your family.  But now I have the house and soon it will be you who is homeless.  What an interesting story I will have to tell my children!  How the lord became the landless, and the beggar became the king.'

  'You have not won yet,' Mike returned.  'But I can see you for what you really are now.  You have let your true colours shine!  End the scheming, Ralph!  Bow now and bow out.  Release yourself form this endeavour.  Burn your goals.  Unless you have an ambition for your underside to become acquainted with the tip of my boot, quit while the going is good!  I can eject you from this house with but one breath.'

  You have not won the keys - not yet!

  'I hear you, old friend.  But I don't heed you,' said Ralph.  'I am my own man.  I do as I wish.  I don't care how things get done so long as they are done.  That has always been my way.  I pulled myself up by my bootstraps.  I started off at the bottom.  Look at me now!'

  'Enjoy it while it lasts,' Mike returned.  'I am not impressed by you.  In the early days I gave you the benefit of the doubt.  Trusting you was my first and last mistake.  I want you to know that this business between you and I is over.  I want my money back and then I want you out of this house for good.  I want you banished!'

  'It's not going to happen.  What's yours is mine.  We are family!  And so I owe you nothing!  The loan came to an end the moment I wed your mother!'

  'I knew you would fight me over the money,' Mike replied.  'That is why the other day I sold the loan!'

  'You did what?'

  'You can expect a visit from a few friendly chaps in a few days.  You have that to look forward to, Ralph.  And one more thing.  I notified the police concerning the drop in our stock.  I find it very interesting that our profits started to decline approximately a month ago - isn't that when you married my mother?  I wonder what interesting things the police will discover when they begin their investigation.  What's the matter, Ralph?  You are starting to look very pale?  Are you unwell?  Or is it a guilty conscience playing out its dance?  Maybe it is time for someone to start packing their bags...'

  'You can't do this to me?' Ralph replied.  'I love your mother!  You have gotten this all wrong.  I am not the man you think I am.  I married your mother because I wanted to spend my life with her, and enjoy what days we have left.  I won't let you destroy everything that we have!  For her sake I can't!'

  'You try and stop me son.  I have already played my hand.  My cards are on the table.  I reckon my hand trumps yours.  And you know it.  The game is over.  It's time for you to run...'

  Ralph was not having any of it.

  He had come prepared for this encounter:

  He drew out a knife from his inner coat pocket and stabbed Mike in the chest - eventually killing the man.

  He had it all planned out - take the master chair, rile Mike up enough to stand and confront him in the centre of the living room right where there was a rug large enough to cover a bloody body.

  So Ralph wrapped the body up, and dragged it outside.  Ralph was a strong man but even so it was hard work dragging that dead body across the fields, and to the bogs where the corpse was finally set to rest.

  So much for Mike King, the lord of the manor!

  Ralph whipped his hands, dusted off his coat and returned to his little cottage down the road.

  Once home Ralph poured himself a brandy to help steady his nerves.  Then he moved himself to the hearthstone where he tried to get a fire going.  But every-time he managed to get a spark to fly the little flame afterwards would just disappear, like something had deliberately blown it out...

  What was going on?

  Ralph tried to light another spark:

  It failed!

  Three, four, five:

  Fail!

  What kind of mischief was this?

  'Just give up son,' said a voice in the corner of the room.  'No fire is going to warm you in this place.'

  Ralph turned around and to his horror he found Mike King standing there as still as a statue.

  No!

  How could this be?

  Mike continued:

  'Looks like you get to enjoy my company for a bit longer, son...'

  'But I...  you sunk to the bottom of the bog?  I saw it!  How did you get out?'

  'It's really not worth thinking about,' Mike replied.  'All you need to know is this: I was always ahead of the game!  Your whiskey was poisoned.  I knew about the knife - I noticed that it was missing days ago.  Only you could have stolen it - it doesn't take a fool to figure it out.  Who else in my  house would steal the knife?  Not me, not my mother, just you.  So I guessed you had some plan to kill one of us.  But I didn't think you would have the guts to go ahead and actually do it.  But you did, more fool you, and now you have no guts at all.  What's the matter Ralph?  You are looking pretty pasty, son.  Actually you have got no colour in you at all!  Here.  Let me pour you another whiskey, Ralph!  Here you go.  Drink it down.  Don't be afraid.  It's not like it can kill you...'

AGAIN

THE END

(Remember!  All spelling errors and grammatical mistakes are intentional - the author 😆)

===========================================================

Also take a look at:
My Games
Play Give 'em Hell
Play Elfin Quest
Witches Brew a short text based adventure game!
Also take a look at:
My YouTube Channel
My Books

THE LEGEND OF RUDWIN REVIEW