Everybody needs to find time to relax.
Most people go for walks, or go for a meal or meet up with friends.
Uncle Lucien liked to relax by standing next to mortuaries and watching people die.
'I have found us a new dig, deep and rich,' said Lucian one day. 'An old man. He was buried about a week ago. Relatively fresh. I noticed as they were putting him in that he was still wearing a very fine watch. A Rolex. Could be three digits in the hands of my fence? I think it is worth the dig!'
He sounded very happy. Digging up mud at nighttime was the one thing that made the man content.
'Count me out this time, Uncle,' Freddy replied.
Lucien looked at his nephew quizzically.
Freddy went on to explain:
'I am done with this business. I have been making friends in town. I am moving onwards and upwards.'
'O is that so? So you are done with your old Uncle Lucien? How nice. So tell me about these new friends of yours?'
'I have teamed up what McGregor, you know? The Scottish guy who owns the bar. He has got some very powerful friends. I mean REALLY powerful. I can't go into it. The business is strictly confidential...'
'O so it is like that is it, Freddy?' said Uncle Lucien. 'After all these years I have ben looking after you, helping you out of your financial mess. Who was it who found that dig with the gold teeth that paid off those damn loan sharks you were in debt to? ME! Who was it you hid you when your creditors came looking for their pound of flesh after that failed printer business you started crashed and literally burned? ME! I have looked after you Freddy. Your Mum and your Dad, they didn't want to know. You brother and your sister live in different parts of the world and never talk to you. You were alone before I took you in. I started the digging business. I kept my eyes on the street and my ears open. I scooped the juiciest digs. I have made us thousands over the years. And now when something plumper and juicier comes along you are going to reject me? How very fine of you, Freddy. It is good to know who your friends are in these dark days.'
'Do the dig yourself! You can keep all of the profits then.'
'I can't dig not anymore, Freddy. I don't have the frame for it. I can't bend my knees anymore. You know how the business goes. My brains your brawn. I find a dig, you do the digging and we split the profits. That's how it goes. Fine. You want to end the family business and go your own way that is your prerogative. But let us do this one last dig. Please. Do it for me Freddy? I need the money.'
'I can't, Lucien. I just can't. I have commitments now. I have got commitments to the mafia.'
'You can't abandon me.'
'I can and I will.'
'You need me Freddy.'
'No I don't. To be honest uncle it is probably more the other way round. You have used me over the years.'
'Now that is a lie beyond lies. We built this business together. And we shared ALL of the profits. I have never USED you. We worked together. You have your strengths and I mine. It worked and it worked well. It can still work well. Don't shut us down like this, Freddy, I beg you.'
'I am shutting us down.'
'You will be back...'
'Never. I am done with this morbid business, Uncle. I don't want to see another grave again not until I die.'
'You will die very quickly if you stick around with McGregor and his boys,' said Uncle Lucien darkly. 'McGregor is MAD. He drinks G-Juice all day and all night long. You know that stuff makes you hallucinate don't you, Freddy? The man sees dragons. He is crazy!'
'He is a war hero!'
'Yes. Eighty years ago! How old is he now? A hundred? He is older than me, Freddy! He will be dead soon and you will come crawling back....'
'NO, Lucien. It's over. Truly over. I am with the mob now. If you want to know the truth, there is a war going on in the streets. The Gangs want control over the G-Juice trade. The Kings have the monopoly because they have the recipe, the other gangs have to steal the product. The Kings were losing ground, but now they have got themselves a new ally. The New York Mafia. That's right, Uncle Lucien. No need to check your words for I speak truly, New York has stepped in to back up the Kings. This is very serious business, and I am in the thick of it, and when this business is all done and dusted I am going to make a lot of money for myself. I will be rich!'
'They will use you and throw you out like an old rag, just like everyone else you've ever known,' Uncle Lucien replied.
'Not this time. I have found a new family. They really care for me. I am going upwards in the world. Goodbye, Uncle Lucien. Let me know when they are holding your funeral. I might pop in to say goodbye. I might even dig you up for old times sake. Who knows? All that I know is that my fortune is changing, and YOU uncle, you are not going to be part of it. Now go away and never speak to me again!'
And that was the end of that.
* * *
A great man entered the bar that morning.
He was almost very nearly six foot. Very smart in an expensive tailored suit, and he was wearing a long dark overcoat. he came in with a smile and a sparkle in his eye:
'Uncle McGregor!' he said with and nod of his head.
And then the bar lit up and every gasped and cried:
Why it is FRANK KING!
And the head of the King family no less.
'Why not pour me a glass of that good G-Juice stuff that my family brew so well,' said Frank King as he stalked the hall stopping only when the bar was an inch within reach. He propped himself up on his left elbow and clicked his fingers. 'A glass of the good stuff would do well. I know it's still early, but a find from experience that a drink or two before business makes business good business. And we are going to be doing some good business today, hey Uncle McGregor?'
'We are indeed my beloved nephew,' McGregor replied heartily, as he poured the fine and vast man a glorious flow of the G-Juice. 'Get that down you boy,' he said handing the fifty year old Frank King his glass of golden juice.
'Still foaming at the brim, fresh and good, like all G-Juice should be,' said Frank. 'That is what I like about your business, McGregor. You have good pipes. You respect the juice. I like that. And that is why I am investing in the place. You remember our deal?'
'Fifty fifty,' McGregor replied quickly.
''You can still keep your name above the place,' Frank replied. 'But we share the profits. Now in the shortfall you are going to experience a loss, but when we sign this deal with New York and my people start shipping the juice to the states, that is when the money is going to really start rolling in.'
'I cannot wait Mr King,' McGregor replied rubbing his grubby little hands together.
'You will be able to retire soon,' Frank replied, taking a sip out of his cup of fine foaming golden juice.
'I am already retired, sadly!' the old Scotch replied.
'No sir. I mean retire properly. You are a bloody war veteran for crying out loud!' said Frank. 'You saved this island back in the day, McGregor. You should be putting your feet up and telling your grand kids all of your old war stories...'
'Grand kids? What a joke!' McGregor replied bitterly. 'My son can't get off of that bloody video game-thingy that he keeps on playing. I keep telling him to get a job. He tells me he is in the middle of fighting a troll. I tell him I was married with kids at his age, he tells me that I have never had the responsibility of serving as a level twelve mage in the council of wizards. He is twenty five years old! My boy is a joke. I will never have grandkids.'
Frank returned with a sad sigh. 'Maybe it is for the best,' he said sombrely. 'It is a hard old world out there, McGregor, and it is getting harder by the day. Maybe children are not the future any more.'
'Now that is something I can not only agree with but drink to as well,' McGregor returned boldly.
'The future of our world is this golden stuff swimming around in my glass,' said Frank holding up his cup. 'Pour yourself one, McGregor. Let us have a drink to G-Juice!'
Hear! Hear!
'This is my new friend Freddy.'
And McGregor pulled Freddy up from out of the toilet.
'He is an accountant.'
Frank asked if Freddy was good for the books, and McGregor replied, 'Very good!'
'That is good to hear! I might be sending some work your way soon Freddy boy,' said Frank King to Freddy's dread. 'My old accountant was a crook. I can count on a man like you to prop up my legit businesses, yes? If McGregor likes you, I should be able to like you as well right?'
Freddy gulped.
'Yes, Mr King sir...' he said in a sweaty slushy wet voice. 'I can help you... prop up your businesses. I am one of the best accountants in Fenwick, sir.'
Frank King heard this and burst into laughter. 'Freddy boy!' Frank said loudly, 'you are the ONLY accountant in Fenwick!'
And everyone in the bar laughed.
'The last one ended up in prison but that won't happen to you will it Freddy boy, because you are straight and legit, right?' said Frank King.
Freddy wagged his head. 'O I wont end up in prison sir. I am as straight as straight can be when it comes to the accountancy business I really am.'
'Good to hear. We will be having very serious talks later,' Frank replied.
After that more drinks were poured and more laughs were shared.
And then something suddenly happened that got everyone scared.
The doors to the bar burst open and in stepped the Irish.
It was Callum Macleod with two of his lads at his back.
So in he came, the leader of the Irish, the dreaded and feared Mr Macleod with his metal plaited teeth and the swastika tattoo on his throat fully exposed and in plain view for all to see.
He stood in the middle of the hall and addressed everybody sitting to the bar:
'My name is Calum Macleod but all you stupid feckers who have eyes will know that already. I am the leader of the Irish and I am wanting words with that man on the other side of the bar. That's right. I want words with you, McGregor. I sent my boys over to pay you a visit the other week. They told you stay out of my business, and to keep away from the Italians. And yet I hear that you are still dallying about with that LA Thinns character, and holding pool nights with him? I want a fecking explanation McGregor and I fecking want it now.'
Frank King was the first to speak. The vast man turned away from the bar and slowly pacing his length of the hall till he was standing right up to the Irishman and close enough to look him right in the eyes. 'McGregor does not need to answer to you not anymore,' said Frank. 'This is his bar and he does as he wishes. And now I have an investment in this bar and I am telling you to back off.'
'I am not speaking to you, you fecking weirdo,' Callum replied fiercely. 'My business is with the scot. Now get out of my face or I will cut you.'
'That scot is my uncle.'
'Well isn't that a sad state of affairs?' the Irish warlord replied. 'So you both own the bar? Good then you can both share ears then when I tell you what I am going to do today. I am going to burn this place down. I said I would and as a man of my word I am going to do it, here and now, with you all still in it. Nobody crosses my people and gets away with it.'
'I haven't crossed you. I am just doing business,' McGregor replied.
'O! So the Scot does speak does he now?' said Callum. 'Why don't you come over here and say your words to my face, McGregor, instead of hiding behind this fecking meat-wall of yours? Come on, McGregor. Walk over here and speak to me in my face.'
'I am not your servant Callum.'
'Everyone in Fenwick serves me you little fecking Scottish weasel. Now man up and face me!'
'I won't waste my breath on you, Callum,' McGregor returned strongly. 'You were worthless. You are scum. You are just a deadbeat Adolf Hitler worshipping fool. The Nazis lost the war. When I see a man parading about with a swastika tattooed on his skin I see a loser. And that is hat you are, Callum, a Hitler worshipping loser.'
'Aye. You have got balls the size of Wales talking to me like that, McGregor. I wonder if they wouldn't just drop off if there wasn't a certain Mr Frank King over here standing in my way? Aye. You were always a cheeky feck, McGregor. And the swastika on my throat does not make me a Nazi. I just like the look of it. And yeah, I think old uncle Adolf Hitler had a few good ideas, but that does not mean to say I worship the dead man. Whether Adolf fled to Argentina or not, it doesn't matter now because he is dead, but I am here. And I mean to raise this fecking bar to the ground.'
'You touch this place and you will regret it,' said Frank King stepping up. 'I am not frightened of you, Callum. The Irish Gang is not what it once was. You have like, what, six soldiers? I am standing here and I am saying that I am ready to fight every single one of you. Come on. Let's do it. No weapons, just bare fists. Are you up for the challenge, Callum? I know I am,' said Frank clicking his knuckles.
It looked like Callum was beat, but the Irishman was not finished not just yet.
Freddy was watching the whole scene from his corner of the bar and it looked like Callum had a confident twinkle in his right eye...
But by the sound of things the Irishman still had a card left to play...
'I wouldn't waste the sweat dealing with you, King,' Callum returned arrogantly. 'This bar is full of feckers who do not know who they are dealing with. I am the head of the Macleods and when I say I am going to do something I am going to do it. I am going to destroy this business, completely.'
'O yeah? You and whose army?' Frank came back, grimly with his firsts already raised up.
THIS ARMY!
And then the Brazilians burst in!
It was Corta Boa Almoço with ten of his lads all armed and ready to go!
LET'S DO THIS!
Firing his gun into the ceiling, Corta was in his element. 'Let's do this! We are going to have a party tonight boys!'
'A real party,' Callum replied, and then the Irishman returned his cold icy gaze back across the hall towards McGregor. 'You have lost the war, McGregor. You tried to play the game with the big boys and you failed. Now here is what is going to happen. Me and my new Brazilian friends here are going to trash this place. There will not be a single piece of this building standing by tomorrow. But here is the deal, McGregor. I will let you and your friends live, I will let you walk away. All you have to do is pour me a drink here and now, and salute the new alliance between the Brazilians and the Irish. Because I can tell you this now, McGregor, we are going to take over Fenwick and no fecker is going to stop us.'
Frank King backed off.
McGregor looked beat, and Freddy was hiding in the toilet, and wishing the toilet actually worked because he really felt like he needed it at that moment.
The Irish and the Brazilians really working together?
Could the dreadful situation really get any worse?
And then the door to the bar swung open one last time that night, and in a large and finally dressed man stalked.
Pool cue over his shoulder, it was no one less than LA Thinns!
And this was the first thing that he said:
'Genteman!' addressing everyone in the hall, 'why was I not invited to the game? It sounds like there is a lot of bad business going on here? I think there are a few matters of business that require addressing?'
He was chalking up his cue as he talked.
'I have a little investment of my own in this bar and I don't like seeing its ceiling getting shot up,' Mr Thinns continued. And then the man from New York turned on Corta in particular. 'Do you mind dropping that gun of yours, son. I am finding it a little disconcerting. Now we are all men here. So let us talk like men and get this little bit of business done quick and quiet.'
'How about I blow your brains out?' said Corta raising his gun on level with LA Thinns forehead. 'I kill you now, pig. I pull the trigger and it is done. I kill men like you all of the time!'
'I contest that,' LA Thinns returned calmly. Thinns started setting up the pool table. He calmly drew his cue across the felt, sending a ball or two into a pocket as his words flew out in response:
'I don't think you have ever killed a man like me, Corta. I don't doubt you have killed a lot of men, but not a man of my standing. Now here is the situation,' he said as he pocketed another ball. 'History is in the past. In history I hear you guys ran the show. But now I am here and I am the future of this nice little town. You heard me correctly, the show is being ran by new talent.'
'What are you fecking rambling about?' said Callum, who was growing very frustrated by the declining situation.
'New talent. That is what I am talking about,' LA Thinns returned while sinking another ball. 'Gentleman, it is my duty to tell you that Fenwick is under new management. New York has moved into town, and we are in charge. And you Irish and you Brazilians, you fellows need to back off,' and with a single stroke of his cue LA Thinns cleared the table! 'It is over for you boys.'
Corta heard this and laughed wildly. He thought he was going mad. 'Are you threatening me?' he said. 'Do you even know who I am?'
'Yes, sadly I do. You are a boy. You are bullets in the gun first, then blast last. But for me my brains are in the cue and I strike first, and that is why you lose and this town is now under my eye,' LA Thinns returned cooly. 'You have lost, boy. Now step down, walk away, and live in peace and leave the management of this town to me.'
'How about I cut you up throw you into the sea?' Corta replied angrily. 'You walk in here like you are the big man? You talk to me like I am some kind of common cur? I put men in the sewers every day. I run Fenwick. I have men at home who will back me up.'
'And I have men right here in this town who will kill you now no sweat,' LA Thinns returned calmly.
Corta looked confused.
What was Thinns talking about?
Thinns very quickly flicked his pool cue over his shoulder and gave the answer everybody wanted to know:
'There are guns on the door but you, Mr Corta, you don't have to worry about them. You just have to worry about the guns on the rooftops looking down now on that window over there. Now all I have to do is click my fingers,' and that is what LA Thinns did and with a flash and bang the window on the left side of the hall shattered into pieces and there was a bullet smoking right by the toes of Corta's foot.
'The next bullet won't miss, Mr Corta,' LA Thinns replied triumphantly.
'Okay. You win mano. I back off,' Corta replied calmly. Corta was intelligent enough at least to know that he was beat. The Brazilian warlord uncocked his gun. He sighed and then looked back up and caught a glimpse of Freddy hiding in a corner. The sight of that man got his blood boiling. 'I will go. But I want to take the dog with me,' he said. Corta pointed at Freddy, and he said, 'I see you dog. You go with me. You get into the back of the car now. It is time we take another walk in the park...'
And here LA Thinns stepped up:
'NO!' he said. 'Freddy stays. He is a man of my blood. Italian. I look after my family. He stays with us.'
My gosh! I cannot describe how LA Thinns words warmed Freddy's heart.
Freddy was so happy he lost grip of his senses. He stepped up onto the scene and said right at Corta, 'Yeah you heard him, Corta! You ugly piece of filth! I am with LA Thinns now. And you cannot touch me. Crawl back to your hovel. But we will destroy you one day, and then I will get my wife back from your wicked hands!'
Corta holstered his gun and laughed. 'Very good, dog,' he said. 'I like you. You have a bite at last! But we will see how tough you are when I catch you alone in the street...'
And with that the Irish and the Brazilians walked away.
'Sorry about the damage to the window,' said LA Thinns. 'Put it on the tab. My boys will fix it soon. They will fix the ceiling as well. This is my business now as it is yours and we must make it work!'
McGregor poured everyone a glass of G-Juice (Except Freddy).
It had been a good day!
A great victory against the gangs of Fenwick!
McGregor, Frank and Thinns raised their glasses:
'Today we have won the war!'
Salute!
(Remember! All spelling errors and grammatical mistakes are intentional - the author 😆)
Previous part here
There is a prequel to this story. Check the link below if you would like to read it:
===========================================================
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
No comments:
Post a Comment