“Fuck Big Toe and his fat slanderous mouth,” I screamed.  I hurled a chair across the room.  My face was purple with rage, and the veins in my neck rapidly pulsed visibly. “He doesn’t know a god damned thing about me,” I said while fervently pacing the room. “And he has the gall to speak of my mother?”  I stormed over to my desk and yanked open the drawers. “Where the fuck is it? Where’s my fuckin’ knife?—I’ll fuckin’ gut the disrespectful bastard!”

I clenched my switchblade tight, white knuckled, and I marched down the street.  Big toe was going to be sorry.  Words aren’t cheap in this town, and he was about to find out just how expensive his words were.  I knew exactly where he’d be at this hour, down 12^th Street ally playing Dice.  He was so predictable, but he was going to be surprised to see me.  I turned down the ally.  There he was, the fat fuck. I looked down at my knife and wondered for a moment if I had enough blade to cut through all of that blubber. Only one way to find out, I guessed.

“Big Toe,” I exclaimed.

Big Toe looked up to see my silhouette at the end of the ally.  I stepped in further bringing my face into focus.  He smirked, shook his head, and he said, “Well, well, look who’s come to see me.  It’s WolfcatJack, fellas.” The rest of the group took interest, each of their faces was filled with the same curiosity Big Toe’s wore.

“What can I do you for, Jacky,” he asked.  “You come to apologize for the other night?  You made quite the scene at the poker table after I told everyone that your mother rode me like the whore she was.  A shame she’s dead now, because she could have told you all about it. Hell, she’d probably be up for another go.  I’d let her be on the bottom this time, like a respectable woman.”  Big Toe and laughed.

“Fuck you, Big Toe,” I blurted out.  “Let’s see how funny you think you are when you’re drowning in the pool of your own blood!”

I opened my switch blood and charged at Big Toe. Shock fell across his face, and he threw up his hands in defense.  My blade pierced through one of his palms, and Big Toe grunted in pain.

“Are you fucking crazy, Jack,” Big Toe shouted.

We grappled and squirmed for a second more.  I yanked the blade out of his palm and swung my arm up from underneath.  The blade stabbed into his fat neck like a hot knife through butter. I shoved it in deep and gave the blade a twist. Blood gushed out of his jugular, and spilled onto the ground in the ally way.  I pulled my knife out of his neck, and pushed off of him.  He held his neck, trying to stop the blood, but there was nothing he could do.  The wound was too great, and he would be bled out within the minute.  Big Toe fell to the ground, fear across his face, and his blood pooled around him as his body gave out a death rattle.

The shock washed away, and the others there playing Dice ran off.  Word would get around that I ended Big Toe.  His family won’t miss him, though.  He was just another dead big mouthed Wise Guy.  They never learn.