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It was a cold December morning, Mafia King had thought over his plan several times, for it had kept him up most of the night. He climbed out of bed, threw on a suit from his closet. It was a little eaten by moths, but he couldn't care as it was the best of the lot.
"How did I end up like this? I am a respected guy within this thing of ours." He mutters to himself before taking a swig of whiskey from his night stand. He made a quick phone call to ensure everything was sorted. He would need a lot of luck today if he was going to turn things around.
As he walked down the stairs to grab a few cigars from his case, the floor gave way and he was stuck ankle deep in the rotting floorboards.
"I have got to stop gambling, ending up in a crap place like this. NO more!!"
He feels a little disgusted at the crap hole he ended up living in after a high stakes poker game, that turned out to be rigged.
He hadn't long to wait before his lift was outside honking the horn eager to get away from the neighbourhood Mafia King lived in. It wasn't the place for wise guys and above to hang out in with fancy suits and flash cars.
Mafia King climbs into the front seat of the car and smiles to his long term associate CarBelly.
"This pulls off, you will make a nice amount from it too. As for that rat bastar..."
He trails off as his fists were now clenched he was that angry.
Carbelly pulled over at a diner for him and Mafia King to get some food before going about their business. A simple breakfast of eggs, bacon and a cup of coffee set them up for what was planned.
About 10 they were parked across the road from Mr Williamson's house. They had to tail him until he went to his warehouse to pick up his weekly due's.
Mafia King was aggitated, he had smoked 30 cigarettes since leaving his house at 8 that morning.
"This guy is gona get what is coming to him. So help me God."
Carbelly calmly reads the newspaper, someone needed a calm head when Mafia King was this pissed he was a bit of a liability. but for now he would let him be.
At 10.45 just as their private investigator had told them, Chuck Williamson left his apartment and walked down the street to grab a sandwhich from a local deli. Then he climbed into the waiting sedan car at the corner.
"HURRY UP WE ARE GOING TO LOSE HIM!!" Mafia King was shouting at Carbelly, They sped off down the street and followed him to the warehouse. As Chuck got out of the car and walked towards the warehouse, leaving his heavy with the car running Carvelly sped up and rammed straight into him.
Carbelly got knocked out cold, but Mafia King was fine, he climbed out of the car and was confronted by the heavy with a baseball bat.
The heavy swung for Mafia King, it was easy to dodge a quick punch to the throat had the heavy reeling back coughing. Mafia King smiled as he pulled his six shooter from it's holster and dispatched the heavy with a smile on his face. As he lay bleeding on the gravel, Mafia King fired another 3 shot's into the corpse.
"Time for Chuck!" He went around the front of the crashed car, and saw Carbelly was coming round. He walked over to the still body of Chuck, checked he was still breathing before throwing him over his shoulder and stowing him in the trunk of his sedan. He then pulled Carbelly out of their car and placed him in the passenger seat of the Sedan.
"Are you ok? How many fingers am I holding up?" He held 3 fingers in front of Carbelly, but he was groaning and didn't respond.
"SHIT! things have got messed up already, we need to get you to the family Doctor."
He went to the trunk of their crashed car pulled a can of gasoline out and poured it over the car.
"I liked this car too" he said in a solomn voice before lighting a cigar, taking 3 puffs to get it lit and chucking it in the broken window. It went up in flames almost instantly.
As Mafia King drove Carbelly to the doctors he reflected on how his short temper had to be under control for the rest of the day. He dropped Carbelly off around a quarter till one, the doctor asked no questions, he just accepted a wad of 20's.
Mafia King went to a near by pay phone and made 2 calls, one to let the boss know everything was going to plan. The other to one of his heavies he had gave the day off, telling him to meet him at his old house, that Mr Williamson now resided in.
Around 3 o'clock Mafia King sat smoking a cigarette watching Mr Williamson come round from being unconcious. He smiled as his heavy stuffed a rag in the mans throat.
Mafia King began to speak to Chuck Williamson.
"I have reason to believe you rigged that game of poker, the odds were in your favour. I got a friend to look into your behaviour, looks like I am not the only person you have conned. Now I take no shit from anyone, so today Mr Williamson is your last."
He took out his cigarette case and frowned.
"Looks like I have just about enough, I would destroy yoru car, but I know a chop shop that will make some use of it."
He lit up his second last cigarette.
"Look here Mr Williamson!" But the man just sobbed, so Mafia King's heavy grabbed him by the hair and ripped his head back so he looked at Mafia King.
"As this cigarette burns, so does your life. If I smoke it fast, you die sooner. But why would I do a thing like that?"
He walks over and stubbed out the cigarette in the mans eye, before signalling to his heavy to help him cart him to the car. the heavy hits him over the back of the head with the butt of his gun as the transport Mr Williamson to his house, the one Mafia King despises soo much.
Mafia King sat in a diner the next morning reading the daily news paper.
Funnily enough there was a story from the night before, A Mr Williamson's house burned down, the fire department said it was started by a cooker. They think it was a way for Mr Williamson to save himself, from much pain as several of his bones were broken. It seems he owed a lot of people the story said.
The body of Mr williamson had to be identified through dental records, it was hard as he had soo many teeth missing.
Mafia King chuckled as he drank a cup of coffee. He had got his revenge, the only person that knows what went on in that house after his heavy dropped them off is himself. He finished the rest of his coffee and walked out of the diner, after leaving a 20 on the table. He strolled off down the street happy that he had got his old house back, but most of all sweet sweet revenge. |
