Two crime lords meet up to discuss happenings around town.
A crystal clear ashtray sat among glasses of whiskey and gold-plated pistols. Two cigarettes faced each other within the ashtray, their smoke coiled up towards the light beam overhead. The room was stark save for four heavily armed men; two standing, two sitting.
The two seated are dressed in jet-black Armani with white undershirts, pristine gold watches strapped to their thick hairy wrists. The two standing are intimidating, very large and husky. Both are sharply dressed, neatly appointed from head to toe. Expensive diamond-specked sunglasses adorn their faces.
The scene looked like a million bucks in an old shoe box, contrasting in numerous ways and ironic in others. It was a meeting between two crime lords; Terry Freeman and Jason Rasetti. The two men standing are body guards, Chip Patrick and Darren Rogers, both ex-NFL linebackers turned goons.
Terry took a long drag from his cigarette, held it in for several seconds and exhaled it into the light. He placed both elbows onto the table and said, “alright, you wanted to talk, so talk.”
Jason looked Terry in the eyes and then butted out his cigarette, “two of my guys say that Jonny Pops tried to whack them last night. I don't know if you know, but I know that the treaty signed clearly states...”
Terry interjects, “...I know what it states. You should ask your boys where they were and what they were doing when Jonny caught them.”
Jason slid back into his chair, glances at his pistol and then focuses back on Terry. He was uncertain if he wanted to know what his boys were doing, because he certainly had no idea. Judging by the tone in Terry's voice, it wasn't good.
Terry leaned back as well, adjusted his body to a more comfortable spot and said, “well I'll tell ya, cause you look like you don't know. Jonny Pops caught your boys, Rick and Tony Sticks fucking in the back of an Audi, outside the Aphrodite night club, that's why he fucking unloaded on them. And it wasn't like he was trying to kill them, he wanted to scare them and boy did he ever. He said Tony pulled his dick out of Rick's ass and rolled out of the window and ran down the street without any pants. What a loony son of a bitch.”
Jason was rattled, he started swearing. He stood up for a moment only to sit back down again. His pistol looked inviting. He felt like Terry was mocking him, making up stories to discredit his crew. Something had to be done, had to be said. He moved in closer and looked Terry in the eyes and said, “you laughing at me? Hmm? You know what happened to the last guy that laughed at me? He went home to his wife without his fucking head.”
Now Terry really started laughing, chuckling at Jason's expense. “How the fuck do you go home without a head, you silly fucking Italian cocksucka. Don't you ever threaten me, ever. I'll kill your goddamn family and whore your daughters out to my men. Now since your momma raised me, I'm gonna pretend you didn't just snap at me and play nice, take my pistol and walk out that fucking door back into my Rolls. While I'm doing that I'm going to try really hard to forget that you didn't just try to grow a pair in my presence. Cause you know, Jason, darling, that I own this town. One call to Wade and your entire fucking army will be wiped clean off this god forsaken planet.”
Jason crumbled, he knew Terry was right. The one thing that Jason didn't have was the loyalty of Wade, the assassin from Persephone. And in this town that's what matters the most. The guy who can afford Wades asking price, runs the show. The cops don't even get involved. Just mentioning the name Wade sent chills down their spines.
“You're right, Terry. I apologize. I lost my head, ya know? Sometimes I don't think straight. I'm sorry, dunno what got over me. Let's just forget this meeting every happened, huh? I'll kill Rick and Tony myself. We'll see ya, Terry.” With that said, Jason got up, shook Terry's hand and exited the room.