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New Stage
חיפוש בבמה

שם משתמש או מספר
סיסמתך
[ אני רוצה משתמש! ]
[ איבדתי סיסמה ): ]


מדורי במה







דוד ארינזון
/ Vince , Run!

-
"Vince, run", someone screamed behind me, suddenly the
screams were everywhere, faces allover the place, sad faces,
with tears shattered to gun powder, I started to run but I
couldn't, I fell on my first move.
"If you were just a little bit smarter you stupid little
kido", a big fat guy pointed his rifle at my throat, I
looked at his eyes but they turned white, he started to
laugh.
"I warned you, don't spy on me, so...finally the cat is
gonna die, where are your other eight souls kido, forgot
them at home?", he released his finger from the trigger and
threw the rifle to the ground and started to laugh again,
"you poor little kido, where's your momy?", suddenly I heard
a single gun shoot, when I finally could stand up I saw the
man lying dead on the ground with a mark of a bullet on his
forehead.
"What do you think Vince, that I would leave you with this
scumbag, now, where's the money, where's my money!"
His voice became more and more threatening, and his face
turned red, "So you think you can fool me you motherfucker"
He looked at his baretta , pointed it at me and pulled his
finger on the trigger, a gun shot, a slow move, as It was in
bullet-time, I could see everything spinning in my head, the
last thing I've seen is his face, smiling with tears, the
mole.
-
"Two more days and we're gonna be rich, think about it
Vince, you can buy a casino with this money"
"Don't push him into this Scott, it's his decision, so Vince
are you in or out?"
"Do I have another choice? I'm deep in the mud here"
"Alright, so we have a three group, we're ready to rumble"
The original plan was to kill the main drug operator in the
city, and old fatso named Mr. Pochettino, the richest man in
a 2000 miles radius, no one was able to catch him dead or
alive, even the cops, and his life worth at least 2 million
dollars.
I was in no position to say no, it was my job, a bounty
killer, with a little amount of cash and a future coming
wife on the other hand.


"Well, today is today gentlemen, you slay or you pay, but
remember, we work as a team".
Coop was a small drug trader himself, since Pochettino came
around he started losing costumers, in his opinion it's
better for all that Pochettino will be dead.
I took my two barretas with four extra stacks and went on
the move, the deal was to split up.
Pochettino arranged a big drug dealers meeting in an old
refinery building near the old railroad, a wrecking
abandoned building with only one way in and one way out.

"Alright, Pochettino will be here any minute, Scott, you
take the east side, Vince, you're in charge of the west
side, I'll cover you two from the main office over there
(pointing), a second after they'll make the trade, I'll
throw a small grenade, wait five seconds and then charge,
understood?"
We all took our places, waiting for a second to move, all I
could think about is the money which with I'll buy my
private house in Hollywood.
After a couple of minutes a black van entered the building,
along with it a white Jaguar and another blue van.
Eight men came out of the vans, and a big man in a white
suit came out of the Jag, Mr. Pochettino himself, the old
motherfucker who controls the drug line from Colombia to the
entire West coast.
After some greetings in Italian they came strait to
business, checking the goods.
I looked at Coop and I looked at Scott, but Scott wasn't
there, the little rat abandoned us, that little coward, but
he wasn't our main problem, we are two against nine. With no
sweat, after a couple of minutes Coop nodded at me pointing
at Pochettino, the were ready to complete the deal, I pulled
my two barretas, ready for action, the only thought which
passed my head was the idea that it was my last mission, at
last I'll be free of this murdering shit.
Coop stood up, and threw the grenade, two seconds after it a
big sound of an explosion boomed my years, the walls painted
red.
Then the gun shoots started, I froze, I couldn't move, I
just moved my head and saw Coop falling down. I realized I
was alone against them all.
I turned around in kamikaze screams shooting with my eyes
closed.
They were all dead, but not by me, everyone but Pochettino
and his Jag, It looked like a couple of seconds for me, but
I froze for minutes, missed my chance to finish the
mission.
I went outside, looking for him, I needed that money...then
I saw Pochettino, he was standing, smiling, with two guys
behind him, aiming an uzi at me.
Then I heard these voices again, "Vince run", I knew I had
no chance so I ran, but I fell on my first move, their
gunfire smashed my leg.
"If you were just a little bit smarter you stupid little
kido", the fat guy pointed his rifle at my throat, I looked
at his eyes but the turned white, he started laughing and
yelling in Italian.
"I warned you, don't spy on me, so...finally the cat is
gonna die, where are your other eight souls kido, forgot
them at home?", he released his finger from the trigger and
threw the rifle to the ground and started to laugh again,
"you poor little kido, where's your momy?", suddenly I heard
a single gun shoot, when I finally could stand up I saw the
man lying dead on the ground with a mark of a bullet on his
forehead, his little buddies were already dead.
"What do you think Vince, that I would leave you with this
scumbag, now, where's the money, where's my money!"
His voice became more and more threatening, and his face
turned red, "So you think you can fool me you motherfucker"
He looked at his barreta , pointed it at me and pulled his
finger on the trigger, a gun shot, a slow move, as it was in
bullet-time, I could see all the world spinning in my head,
the last thing I've seen is his face, smiling with tears,
the mole, he gave us up, the little motherfucker.







loading...
חוות דעת על היצירה באופן פומבי ויתכן שגם ישירות ליוצר

לשלוח את היצירה למישהו להדפיס את היצירה
היצירה לעיל הנה בדיונית וכל קשר בינה ובין
המציאות הנו מקרי בהחלט. אין צוות האתר ו/או
הנהלת האתר אחראים לנזק, אבדן, אי נוחות, עגמת
נפש וכיו''ב תוצאות, ישירות או עקיפות, שייגרמו
לך או לכל צד שלישי בשל מסרים שיפורסמו
ביצירות, שהנם באחריות היוצר בלבד.
את הכותרת אני
קורא בבוקר עם
הקפה
את הספורט אני
לוקח לבית ספר
וכשאני חוזר
ואוכל צהריים
אני שם את עסקים
מתחת בשביל
שהקטשופ לא
יטפטף...



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בבמה מאז 1/2/02 0:35
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