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The wind outside is chill.. The leaves in the streets are blown here and there, encrusted with beads of frost. But the bar however is practically glowing with heat. You walk in, stamping your feet against the cold. You glance around, looking for a drink. A small crowd is gethered around a man standing behind the counter. He hands out what looks like.. FREE DRINKS.
In a hurry to be a part of this you rush over, squeezing through the huddle and grabbing a drink of your choice. After clearing his throat the man starts speaking
"Now this.. Is a true story. And I'm sorry but I can't give names, you know, family business and all that." He winks slyly "So lets just call our strapping young hero Fred shall we?
"Now Fred had had it pointed out to him many a time that he wasn't exactly the sharpest tool in the box. I mean, he respected those who were, but he had his own place, and that was firmly at the bottom. Not to put too fine a point on it, if he were any of teh tools he would be a hammer. Good at bashing things but not much else. So he did what he did best.. Went out, stole money, broke whatever the boss pointed him at. And this got him far enough, but it never really got him anywhere in the family. He wanted to be a A Friend of "Ours" rather than just of "Mine".
"So.. Fred went up to his boss, handed in the tribute as normal. Asked as usual if there were any jobs for him. The boss rattled off a list of the usual suspects.. Business not paying its protection money.. Boys trying to muscle in.. Yada yada yada, you know the story. But anyway, this time Fred asks for something else. Something that needs a little finess 'eh? So after a bit of ummin and ahhing the boss asks him to come with him to attend some talks with a big wig from another city. Diplomacy ya know?
"So Fred potters along.. Thinking it would be a doddle. I mean, how hard can words be 'eh? So he's sitting down, minding his own busines, bluffling his way through with ethe usual "I see" and "Is that so" whenever he feels a contribution is needed. Suddenly, through the window jumps a guy, must have been a madman to think he would get out alive of a meeting like this. But maybe he wasn't aiming to get out alive? Who knows. Only thing Fred knew, some guy was pointing a gun at his boss. All the other bigwig bodyguards started fumbling for their guns, panic flitting in their eyes. Fred just stood up, and in one movement broke the guys gun arm in two with his bare hands. Nothing fancy. Doing this, he earnt a bullet to the leg.. And a place in the family.
"The moral of the story? Hammers are made to be hammers. They shine in their own right."
He steps from behind the counter, and you can't help but notice an injury in one leg.. Much like an age old bullet wound would leave |
