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By the time he lowers his fists a bit and opens his mouth to say "Shit man, just tell Tony that I-" You're on him in a flash, your hand whipping out of your pocket and making contact right on the side of his jaw, your brass knuckles smashing into his face so hard that you feel the telltale <span class="mu-s">crunch</span> that means his jaw got shattered and most of his teeth on the right side either got knocked out or crushed to bits and pieces. He never saw it coming, and as he falls to the ground you can see a look of shock and confusion mingling with agonizing pain on his face. All it takes then is a good kick to the temple and the fucker is out cold, blood and bone drooling out of his slack mouth. You give him a couple of kicks for good measure before rifling through his pockets, finding some mysteriously unlabeled blue pills, a badly cracked iPhone 6 and about 250$ in assorted bills.
Pocketing your prizes, you make your way out of the filthy alley you dragged him into and into the streets, and before long you're back inside the ‘comfort’ and safety of your banged up cherry red Pontiac G5. You take a moment to light a cigarette, and consider popping the pills you found then and there, but finally decide against it, figuring you’ve had enough surprises for one night, and just as you turn the ignition you see something that makes your heart stop: A little girl in a dirty white dress, running screaming out of one of the hundreds of rat infested tenements that make up the southside of Bad Brick, before shortly being followed by an even younger and smaller boy, holding the largest cockroach you’ve ever seen and shouting “Sophie eats buuugs, Sophie’s a <span class="mu-s">bug eater</span> hahahaha!”
You let out a deep sigh, and as you grip the steering wheel you see that your hands are shaking. Goddammit. You almost went a whole day without being reminded of her, and now you don’t feel so good about the beat down you just gave out. What would Sophia think, if she knew this was what you’re doing now? Fuck. God fucking dammit. Fuck it, you take a deep drag of your smoldering cigarette and then speed out of there. You need to do something. Anything, to take your mind off this shit. The Cock’s gonna wanna know that you finished the job for him, but you don’t know if you can take having to deal with his sneering face and shitty jokes right now. Still, the money might be worth it. Checking your glove-box, you’re reminded that your stash is running pretty low, all you got left is half a joint and a couple sniffs worth of coke and a handful of bangers rattling around. Maybe you should blow off the Cock for tonight and give Markie a ring. And in the back of your mind you feel the deep need for a friendly face and a warm body to spend the night with, maybe you should see if Sammie’s busy.
Fuck… You got a feeling it’s gonna be a long night either way.
