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No turning back: Part three Started by: Scratchy on Oct 24, '16 19:39

Inside the small, drafty room - the walls bare and the floor full of bits and pieces as the building hasn't been renovated for quite a while, other than the space added for his mischievous jobs the three sit silently in the room, with the heavy air of fish and episodic noise of the lower floors of workers arguing at each other.

Scratchy sat there with total unenthusiastic face, as the two Luxuria and KL look in silence, not trying to be mean to the two - he gets up from his slouched position - goes towards the whiskey, unscrewing the tab as it clicks, filling each glass. Half way for himself, only a quarter for the rest, he places it down on the desk as they both take their cup,

"Look, no problem's on both ends, don't have to look down, don't have to stare at me eit-either," Scratchy coughs as he takes a sip, "I'm offering you my hand, silence isn't going to get you out of jail - so you either answer or walk out that door," Scratchy, taking another sip as he looks towards Luxuria, " for your friend,- this is men's work, not a women's job." 

With a slight scowl come from Luxuria - she stands up and leaves the room, as KL and Scratchy stare towards each other, Scratchy stands up and putting out his hand towards KL, "No turning back." 

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Letting Scratchy's hand hang there I grab the glass and take a sip, staring at him with an aggravated look I speak up.

"You know before I arrived here in Philly I spent 10 years in prison!, now seems as though I have no choice but to take your offer, prison is not an option for me anymore!."

I reach out and shake Scratchy's hand.

"So tell me Scratchy... what do you have in mind?."

 

I lean back and wait to hear what Scratchy has planned. I knew this would bring some carnage fore sure but as I had said... prison was not an option.

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Still standing up as KL takes his seat - he takes Luxuria's whiskey and spills it into his, sitting down with both glasses, he places them his side of the desk. Flicking throwing more of the paper that he has next to himn - he finds the piece of paper that was reported two weeks earlier, namely a small time robbery of a fruit and veg market stall - three people wounded by gun fire while two others were arrested. Scratchy points to a witness statement;

Five a day Tragedy

On the calm and law abiding street within South side, five total members of the underground Irish Mob, with iron pipes and baseball bats charged into the local shopping spree of many searching for their daily vitimins and food to cook for their families, one witness said: 'I can't believe it, three men smelling of whiskey hit the fruit stall manager to near death - where were the police?!

"Blah, blah, blah - sad story, the end," Scratchy say's as KL finishes reading it out-loud, "This was in South side, near Farmount street - never heard of it but kept a record as the irish seem to love this place," Scratchy taking out a cigarette, lighting it with a match in his desk draw, begins talking again with an exhale full of smoke, "I think from this - they just fucked up," Scratchy taking a sip from his whiskey, he puts the stacks of paper onto the floor as he takes out a portion of the map of South Side, "We're here," Pausing, Scratchy then takes his other hand, "-With a little help from my workers, I pinpointed where they buy their fixes," Scratchy pausing, pointing his finger near the school, "Here, it was a school - until they figured they could save money from the education budget - which is just as well, I didn't learn nothin'," 

Scratchy takes the map down, following through with the plan he's devised, "We first need to make sure they're still there - we don't know how they move and if they're lazy enough to go that far," Scratchy pausing as he stands up, sitting on the desk - inhaling another puff of the cigarette, "Once we're completely sure - we go in guns blazing, they don't guard the building well - nor do they have that many numbers," Exhaling the smoke, he continues, "Most of them fuck off to do their own thing, or go to jail - can't trust the pricks," Scratchy slows down as he goes towards the office door. 

The air floods in of fish and sweat from the workers hauling in their fresh's catch - Scratchy motions his hand towards KL to follow him down the stairs as KL begins to speak to him.

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As I am following Scratchy down the stairs anger hits me like a ton of bricks, halfway down the stairs I grab Scratchy by the shoulder and say to him as calmly as possible. "That's 3!, 3 times you disrespected Luxuria!. Firstly she is a leader, and a good one at that... secondly, she is my wife!. Now usually I only let things slide once, somehow you managed to sneak a 3rd time in. Prison isn't a option for me, but killing isn't a problem either. So here's how this whole thing is going to work. I'm going to help you just like you are helping me. But from this point on she will be called Lux, not broad or anything else disrespectful. As long as we understand each other then feel free to lead the way and we can proceed."

I look into Scratchy's eyes with a very serious face. A face that shows frustration and nothing to lose. I could tell he knew I was not playing around at this point. I waited for his response before we continued.

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A day later

 

 

Going through with that plan with the seemingly angst partner in crime - Scratchy prepares the weapon case he payed a lot of money for - as he was just about to pack the case up and put it onto the truck, a knock on the door as the door creaks open. As it was night time - with the crickets chirping there song, the figure seems to walk halfway through the door with a letter in hand, "Hey, buddy - sorry we're closed, if you want fresh fish, you'll have to come back tomorrow," Scratchy, turning his back as he starts to cover the truck as the man starts to walk closer, "Seriously, we're not open, we're up early, crew gets in at around six" Hearing the footsteps stop, Scratchy turns around, as the figure holds out a letter.

As fast as the figure leaves, Scratchy rapidly opens it, reading:


Dear Scratchy,

It is my deepest regret to inform you the death of a friend by the initial of KL. 

You may not know me, but he talked a-lot about you, sorry for you to hear this way.

His funeral will be this week.

-A Friend


 

Hearing the door sway from open to close rapidly, the darkness of the room started to creep in - crushing the letter in a little ball - Scratchy goes to the nearest telephone, typing in a few digits, waiting for the person on the other end to pick up before speaking; "Seems I wont need the extra case, when you bring the next deli every - pick me up, i'll be down here a while,"

"I'm keeping that six grand, you know that," The person on the other end replies, in a sombre tone, Scratchy replies,

"Sure, whatever," then putting down the phone, climbing the stairs to his office, each step echo's throughout the spacious building - reaching the top, he enters the office - closing the door quietly before getting out a bottle of whiskey - seeing the one he placed for KL placed. Taking it with his left hand - he puts it in the bin - opening a half filled bottle of whiskey - pouring it into a glass until it reached the top. 

Sitting down on his desk chair - leaning back all the way, with his right holding the drink and his left flicking through some old news articles, Scratchy says to himself, "No turning back, huh kid?" Giving a little chuckle, as he takes a gulp of whiskey.

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