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| The Things You Do For Money | Started by: Taskmaster on Aug 25, '08 09:47 |
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Sitting at a table at a bar, with various underworld figures drinking, talking, and generally bullshitting, the silent figure at the end leans forward and loudly sets his shot glass on the table. You wanna story? I got a story that you won't top. We all do bad things for money sometimes. Sometimes you steal, sometimes you cheat. There might even be a killer amongst you. But lemme tell you how I got started in this life. I was a kid, maybe eighteen. Brought up in London, or maybe it was New York, or Sicily, the place doesn't matter, really. I was on my own and dead broke. I wondered the streets, begging on occasion. One night, while walking past a graveyard, I heard a noise. Being the curious type, I went inside to see what the noise was. It was foggy, I remember that much. I followed the sound to its source. As I got closer, I recognized the sound of a shovel digging, then hitting something solid. Taking care to remain hidden, I neared the source of the noise and saw an aging man, digging up a grave. Graverobber. The lowest form of life. I started to leave, but again, I'm the curious type. The graverobber then did something odd. He stripped the corpse of its clothes and jewlery, but he threw them back into the hole. This was too much. I pulled out my boot knife, just in case, and called out to him. "Hey, you there. Old man." The man turned on his heel, started to run, but, realizing that I wasn't a cop, stopped and answered me. "Whaddya want, punk?" "Why not take the jewlery and clothes to sell?" "Graverobbing's a felony, young man." "Then why dig him up? "Body snatching is a misdemeanor." "You're taking the body? Why?" "Doctors pay good money for a fresh one. C'mon, I'll show you." I joined him in his errand as he wrapped the body in sackcloth and threw it over his shoulder. We took the dark alleyways to the back door of a prominant medical teacher. The graverobber rang the bell and a hunchback answered the door. "Yeeeessss?" the hunchback forced out of his mouth. "I gotta delivery for ya. Standard fee." The hunchback put some cash into the graverobber's palm and carried the corpse away, shutting the door behind him. "See?" said the graverobber. Easy money, 'cept for the digging. I thought about that for a second, took the shovel out of the back of the cart, and wacked the graverobber on the head with it. I rang the bell and the hunchback returned. "I gotta delivery for you," I said. "Thank you. Here is the money agreed upon." He carried away the graverobber's corpse. The graverobber was right. It was a lot easier without the digging. |
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| Ah... Capitalism at its best. Bravo. | |
| Reply by: Mr_Rogers_Lovechild at Aug 25, '08 10:23 | |
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