That crooked smile that always indicated that he knew something. It showed that he, was in a way better than you. He lay sprawled on the couch staring at Doug in the doorway, with that stupid smile.
"So, I guess you've heard?" Smug, as usual.
"Yeah I heard, I hear alot of stuff. " Doug walked slowly into the room. Eying Randy up and down. Taking in his sprawled out form on the couch. Noticing the snakeskin leather brief case, positioned oh so carefully next to the couch.
"Well?"
"Well what, Randy?"
Randy smiled; "Do you think he'll get it?"
Doug walked to the center of the room. Silently. Coldly. With a single flick of motion he flung open the trench coat and and pulled out the 9mm he had on his hip. Three quick squeezes, and bursts of light and sound filled the room. Randy lay sprawled on the couch, red staining his 'salmon' colored shirt. The smile was gone, his face though bearing a single bullet hole in the forehead, look dumbfounded for moment, then fell slumped onto his chest.
"Yeah, yeah Randy. I think he'll get it."
Doug walked over to the side of the couch and picked up the briefcase there, and slowly, quietly, left the room.
posted by F.G. Shaw @ 3:34 AM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home