Monday, April 02, 2012

The Money

Sometimes you have to shake off a run of bad luck. It ain't always easy, but anything worth fighting for usually isn't. I figured my life was worth fighting for. There are those detractors out there like the guy I was running from right this moment. He would give anything to shake me and my bad luck into the hospital. I had one chance and it was the ferry that was supposed to be leaving in 15 seconds. If it was going to work I had to be barely within jumping distance and he had to be outside that distance. It felt like I was in a movie and I hoped my luck was movie luck. I pushed past some people that were waving goodbye to loved ones. There weren't a lot of those because most ferry passengers are day trippers but there were some. IT should have seemed odd. One of the well wishers catches my eye a second too late and I feel my side explode in a solar flare of pain. My run has not ended as planned. Sometimes....... things don't shake so well. I feel like I am spinning as I actually plummet into the frigid waters of the Sound. My last conscious thought is about the large cleavage of the woman who stabbed me.

I awake in a grey building with a scary tattooed and grotesquely pierced freak sewing me up like I am Sally from the Nightmare Before Christmas. Odds are, with the way I feel, that Sally is still the better looker of the two of us. It takes me a moment to hear the noises that go along with the overly bejeweled lips of the scary one. I briefly wonder if the person is female or male when it/he/she slaps me. The voice does not help me clear it up, it's a dry scratchy noise that sounds like what a muted dog would sound like if it's barks were human speech. "...... bloooohdy ihdioht! Yoooh shouldenah rahn. Iht mahkes theh bosth mahd. Thehn yooh ehnd uhp here ahnd I hafta pahtch yah up."

"I take it from your whining that Ray is awake and with us again. How was that nasty little spill into the Puget Sound? Worth the run you little shit!? Nearly caved your head in on the boat and I am still trying to figure out if that would have been bad or not. On one hand a dead man never pays but on the other you seems like a big time loser that won't ever pay!" hollers Jimmy Oompah Loompah (as he is less then affectionately referred to due to his overtanning and rather underdeveloped stature).

"Thihs bloohdy ihdioht prohbahbly wihshes heee nehvah mahde iht bahck ouht ohf the sohund!" cackles the walking piercing.

"Shut up! I hate your breathy voice Shawn! Isn't it about time for you to be done? Don't frigging answer that! It was a rhetorical question!"

At least Oompah and I agree on something, the voice does make the pierced and tattooed one even harder to handle. I can see that Shawn, the living canvas, has been offended when he yanks a little too hard on the thread. I can't help but let out a whimper in response. I see a smile spread across both of their faces and realize that pain from others is what brought this dynamic duo together and will probably keep it together long enough to deal with me. Luckily for me, Shawn, the world's ugliest canvas, has hurriedly finished up and left. But not without kicking me very near my flesh wound first.

When the world returns to a less pain blurred focus I see the Loompah is patiently waiting on me. "I am betting you were hoping for a bit more luck today. Unfortunately you weren't focused on all the details that a man like me has to be focused on. I anticipated your move, it was so 1980's cliche movie get away...."

"Really..." I whisper, "must have missed those movies.:" Jimmy's orange face slips out of sadistic smile mode and takes on an 'I will kill you' facial expression. That is when I realize that I am living out the ultimate cliche where the hero, ha!, taunts his captor. Unfortunately cliches do not protect you from searing pain and I wake up with the tattooed one cleaning me up again. It makes me think of the Princess Bride and the pit of despair. I smile as I think of Wesley being cleaned up before his torture begins.

"The ihdioht ihs ahwahke." Igor the rhinestone pierced cowboy announces.

"I don't like you Ray!" bellows a high pitched orange.

"Really...?" I breathe.

"I just want the money and you run from me. I am forced to have you stabbed and then sewn up and all you can do is mock me." He glares at me and I try not to smirk, even in this much pain my urge to laugh at inappropriate times is trying to take over. "I will kill you if we continue in this fashion, RAY!"

All I can think is 'why does he keep saying my name, does he think I might think he is talking to Shawn the fishing lure?' That makes me laugh, unfortunately. I briefly swim through a tide of crimson before the blackness falls on me like a wannabe vampire's ever important cape.

To be continued?

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