The Money You Owe and the Money You Borrow (8-end)

15 minutes or so later, after 2 rounds of M-80’s were lit between the cracks of my toes!

I passed out.  My feet were in pain, then burning, then in more pain, and I wondered how I was in the desert in my Firebird.  Then, I looked at her, and she had blood all over her face, not dried like before, but wet and fresh.  Crappers’ lifeless body fell right onto my burned and singed feet.  It hurt some more.  She untied me , to my relief, and I punched the crap out of the yokel who lit me up like the 4th of July.  She had to help me out of the room, where a wheel chair was waiting for me.  I guess he wasn’t going to kill me.  I wheeled into the kitchen for some ice, as she picked up the plate of Rice Krispy treats.  Before long, she had duct taped the whole batch to Crapper’s body and hauled him downstairs to his moat.  She pushed him into the murky water and he no doubt when Snap! Crackle! Pop!
“Well, he finally ate from you”

She looked at me and then ripped the sleeve off my shirt and wiped her face, so I could see her beautiful skin again.  Then, Crapper’s little bastard monkey jumped on my feet and scratched the hell out of them, which caused more grueling, intense pain.  It took a few minutes to rip his monkey paws from me, but we did and I was all too relieved.

“Why did you savagely feed Crapper’s body to some gators, if you don’t mind me asking?”
“He was slime.  He provided all of Tut’s girls for him.  All illegal, under-age girls from other countries.   He abused them.  and Mistreated them.  He was a sickening creep who didn’t deserve to live.”
“How did you find all that out?”
“I was one of them.  He didn’t know my father was an ex-Seal , who came to  Germany every chance he got to see me and my mother.  He always wanted me to be safe.”
“And here all this time, I thought I was going to be the hero.”
You’re a crook, Goldstein.  I’ve read all the paper work on you.”
“Ha, no you haven’t.  My name’s not Goldstein.”
“What is it then?”
“Ah, Johnathan.”
“Okay, then, in that case, I’m Tiffany.”
“Of course you are.”

I finally made it back home, after looting Crapper’s place, making triple what I owed him, which got my feet operated on and bought me a plane ticket home.  I was still up after all that.  When I got back to my apartment, I saw that we had a new door, but poor David was still missing his head.  I unlocked the door and stepped into the most gruesome sight I’d ever seen as Tommy and Mrs. Pananini were humping on the living room floor.  I quickly shut the door and screamed at him as loud as possible.
“What are you doing?”
He screamed back, ” I Had to pay the rent somehow!”

I started to tell him I had the money now but some of us just have to learn lessons on our  own.  I went down to the Pink Flamingo to get hammered and of all people, Big Tony Flubs was there.  I quickly tried to scam him, and think up a lie, or a story, but he had already sat down next to me, and ordered us both a beer.

“Hi Tony.  I have your money.”
“Save it.  No more stories.”
“No, no stories.  I really have it.”
“I know you do.  I heard what you did.”
“What did I do?”
“You took down King Tut’s operation.”
“I did?”
“Yeah and we’re even.”
“Wow, Tony, that’s…..incredibly gracious of you.  I don’t know how…”
“Save it.  My niece told me about how you popped Tut and pulled her out of harm’s way.  I respect that.  And, now we’re even.”
“Her?   She’s your niece?”
“Only by marriage.”
I had no clue what the hell was going on but it seemed like it was working out in my favor.  Tony finished his beer and stood up, then punched me in the ribs as hard as he could.  I wheezed and clutched my side.  He looked down at me.

“How much do you got on you?”
“Ah, like 1300”
“Give it to me.”
“Sure, Tony.”  So I did.  And he laid down a $100 bill on the bar and said “Keep drinking.”
And that was the last time I ever saw Big tony Flubs….or his niece.

Tommy had paid our rent up and out through next June.  We decided we really should start our own business up, but when we tried to get a small business loan, our evaded tax history caught up with us.  But, after a bit of jail time, I think our luck’s about to change.  Maybe even we can too.




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