Punks, Fireworks, and Bridery
April 28, 2014
“So let me get this straight,” the big punker named, Thrash, said to him. “You don’t want us to really fight, or do anything other than cause mayhem at a big business rally and to do this you’ll give us each a thousand dollars?”
“Shit, we’d probably do something like that for a six pack each,” a big shouldered man with a red mohawk said.
“Or a pack of smokes,” a small guy with blue hair added.
Thrash sent them a venomous look. He leaned back and took a sip of beer. “My father was an evil prick, but he used to tell me a few things now and then that did make sense. One gem of wisdom he repeated to me more than once was, if something seems too good to be true, it probably is.”
Jack met the man’s gaze. “No, I agree. I guess the fall back is… there’ll be shitloads of violence going on. People might think you’re something you’re not and try to kill all of you if you don’t flee fast enough.”
“Oh, is that all,” the leader’s sidekick said, while folding his arms over his great girth.
Thrash pointed his smoke at Jack. “See, that I can believe.”
Jack spoke up. “That’s why I mean it when I say I want you folks to throw these devices and then scatter. A, they will chase you and leave less of them for me and my team to deal with, and B, if they see you running right away they’ll think you are less of a threat and probably not try to start collecting your heads.”
The big man, O.Z. spoke up again. “Start collecting our heads, huh? I may be a little out of the loop, but since when do PR stunts for big pharisaical companies involve random beheadings?”
“When the asshole I’m fighting owns them,” Jack answered.
“Let’s get down to some nuts and bolts before we decide anything,” Thrash began. So, A,” he started, mocking Jack. “Will this money be in cash?”
“B, what are these devices you want us to throw?”
Jack pulled out a handful of round metal spheres about the size of golf balls. “My friend Blaze sent these to me. We tested one. Just consider them the best fireworks money can by. They send out loads of sparks and trailers while creating huge amounts of smoke. Oh yeah, and they’re real loud too.”
“Cool,” the guy with blue hair said.
“C,” Thrash continued. “So you want us to throw these and bail, that’s it?”
Thrash flashed a humorless grin. “D, why do you hate these guys so much and what are you trying to do?”
Jack upended his beer and tossed it into the big oil drum these guys used as a trash can. “I figure the less you know about what we’re doing the better off you’ll be, but if you really want to know… The owner of this company, Dr. Drake has killed my best friend’s girlfriend, wants to control the world by making us all addicted vegetables, and had tried to kill me any chance he has gotten. And if I get the chance, I’ll ram a dagger through his black heart.”
“Damn,” the guy with the big mohawk said.
Thrash eyed him for a long moment. “Okay, we’re in and I’m guessing that if we flail of a few of this doctor’s goons, you won’t get mad.”
“I don’t want you guys to get into any trouble with the law, but if they follow you down an alley, feel free to hurt them as badly as possible. Matter of fact, if this goes off well, there could be bonuses involved. Now how many guys you got, Thrash?”
“How many you want?”
“I’ll leave you with thirty five thousand. Five for your trouble and thirty for your people.”
“Alright Primus,” Thrash said as he looked down at the stack of cash in awe. “We’ll see you on the other side.”
To be continued next Monday