Charlie - Thanks for Nothing

What a goddamn prick.

I was right the first time I saw him - he's a self-obsessed idiot who's playing the hero with no regard to anyone else. He wants to protect me, which is just goddamn irritating, but he won't tell me what the hell is going on, or why he's fainting all over the goddamn place like some goddamn princess in a goddamn Disney movie!

Jesus Christ! Does he think I'm some kind of French pastry, that needs mollycoddling every goddamn five minutes? I can take care of myself - I've done it before. While he was busy being laid into by some axe-wielding maniac, who was it that killed the goddamn Knight, eh? And who was it found that goddamn video tape of the murder in the tiger's cage, eh?

Ever since he got me in that goddamn dress, he's been treating me just like a girl. Jesus. Anyone'd think I was made of goddamn china, the way he's been going on. But when it comes to the important stuff, does Little Miss Goddamn Cissy get a look in? Of course not. She'd probably fall to goddamn bits at the mere mention of anything other than cream teas and sunny goddamn afternoon walks.

I think I'm going to kill someone. Lucky my gun's not in its holster. I might just shoot something. Probably a cute little goddamn bunny rabbit.

I'm doing way over the speed limit. Do I care? Of course not. Life's too short.

Damn damn damn damn damn. That was a goddamn speed camera. Bang goes my career.

My knuckles are white on the steering wheel. I should definitely slow down. Stop. Take a break. Something.

I turn off the main road and work my way back into town. Find a nice little backstreet where there's no one else to bother me.

I get out the car. I need some air. I need some breathing space. I need some... something.

A white van pulls up behind me. Now what? Can't I just be left in goddamn peace for once? I'm on duty twenty-four-seven. You got a problem? Call Charlie Broker. Yeah, fine, whatever. Now p*ss off.

Two men get out and start coming towards me.

'Need a hand, darling?'

I'm gonna break his goddamn neck, I swear I am.

'Beat it,' I say, glaring at them. They laugh.

They laugh. I'm definitely going to break his neck. And both his legs. And all his fingers, one by one. And then I'm gonna laugh at him, and jump up and down on his head.

Urgh. I could so easily be a criminal.

I turn to get back into the car.

Big mistake.

I realise a second too late what I've just done, and I'm starting to turn as I hear footsteps coming up behind me, but it's too late, it's far far too late, and there's an arm grabbing me round the neck and there's something being pushed into my face, and I'm breathing something in and it smells seriously bad, and everything starts going fuzzy and blurry and I can't really see, and I can't really think, and-

and I'm falling-

I'm falling backwards-

and I can't see-

and everything's going slow-

like some goddamn movie or something-

and I'm trying to wake myself up-

trying to make myself kill these two men-

I can see it now-

I'd turn-

hit him in the stomach-

shoot them in the head-

get in my car-

radio for backup-

and Mendrick-


I stop fighting the blackness as it comes in to envelop me, like a long lost friend, like the sea reclaiming its property...

The End

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