Broken
What a prick. You stub out your cigarette on an ashtray on the table.
"Allright then. What's up, Donnie?"
"The big shots are getting pissed with you, Mikey. You better stop fooling around. I was sure you wouldn't answer that phone today when I called ya"
"I almost didn't, Donnie "
"I'm serious. You still do a clean job when asked to, but you're on the line, Mikey. Like last time. Those security personnel? What the fuck, Mik "
"They were on the way" you interrupt.
"Oh I believe you, but for christ's sake, couldn't you knock them out, or something? That kind of shit isn't safe, and you know it"
You cross your arms and stare at the colourful jukebox. It's Cash's turn now. You sip on your coffee.
"I lost control, Donnie. They were on my way. I panicked, ok? And I had my reasons. If I had stayed there for half a minute longer, I would have got captured, arrested and jailed for life"
"It's not as easy as I make it look, Donnie boy" you add, in a provoking manner, with a smile.
"Fine, Mikey. Just get a grip on yourself. You're getting unreliable, that's all I'm saying. Unreliable, Mikey "
You both sit quietly for a while, listening to A Boy Named Sue. Don looking at the walls around him in his usual semi-hunched posture. God, can't he stay put for a second? What a mouse. You empty your coffee mug and place it on the table.
"So, Donald. You got something for me?"
"Yeah. It's an easy one, this time. But with a very short notice time"
"How short?"
"Tonight. Before tomorrow morning"
You stare at the immobile ceiling fans for a few seconds.
"What the fuck, Don?"
"Don't call me that, Mikey"
"It's me putting my wretched ass in danger here, not you. I do all the work, you reap the rewards. I'll call you whatever I want, especially if you throw jobs like that at me. I don't work this way, Don"
"You know it isn't like that, Mikey... You don't have to take it", he straightens his posture.
"Although, I suggest you do. The bosses don't like playing games. They didn't send me here to lose time. And now there isn't much of it. Look, we need someone to do the job, and it has to be tonight"
"Why?" you ask.
"This guy is looking for something that belongs to us. He might have already found it. He's gonna go into hiding. We have to take care of him asap. I can't tell you more, Mikey. You know how it goes"
"How much?"
"Fifty"
"Must be something big. What is it, Donnie? C'mon, tell me"
"I can't. We got the tools for you. We prepared a stash for you to speed things up"
"I don't like that, Donnie"
"There's no time. They're clean, you can trust me"
You stare at your empty coffee mug, then at Don. He seems twitchy. His eyes are nailed at you, waiting. He's nervous as hell, and it shows. His ass must be on the line too. You love watching him writhe, there, in his little chair with his shiny, combed hair and ridiculously impeccable clothes.
"Allright then. What's up, Donnie?"
"The big shots are getting pissed with you, Mikey. You better stop fooling around. I was sure you wouldn't answer that phone today when I called ya"
"I almost didn't, Donnie "
"I'm serious. You still do a clean job when asked to, but you're on the line, Mikey. Like last time. Those security personnel? What the fuck, Mik "
"They were on the way" you interrupt.
"Oh I believe you, but for christ's sake, couldn't you knock them out, or something? That kind of shit isn't safe, and you know it"
You cross your arms and stare at the colourful jukebox. It's Cash's turn now. You sip on your coffee.
"I lost control, Donnie. They were on my way. I panicked, ok? And I had my reasons. If I had stayed there for half a minute longer, I would have got captured, arrested and jailed for life"
"It's not as easy as I make it look, Donnie boy" you add, in a provoking manner, with a smile.
"Fine, Mikey. Just get a grip on yourself. You're getting unreliable, that's all I'm saying. Unreliable, Mikey "
You both sit quietly for a while, listening to A Boy Named Sue. Don looking at the walls around him in his usual semi-hunched posture. God, can't he stay put for a second? What a mouse. You empty your coffee mug and place it on the table.
"So, Donald. You got something for me?"
"Yeah. It's an easy one, this time. But with a very short notice time"
"How short?"
"Tonight. Before tomorrow morning"
You stare at the immobile ceiling fans for a few seconds.
"What the fuck, Don?"
"Don't call me that, Mikey"
"It's me putting my wretched ass in danger here, not you. I do all the work, you reap the rewards. I'll call you whatever I want, especially if you throw jobs like that at me. I don't work this way, Don"
"You know it isn't like that, Mikey... You don't have to take it", he straightens his posture.
"Although, I suggest you do. The bosses don't like playing games. They didn't send me here to lose time. And now there isn't much of it. Look, we need someone to do the job, and it has to be tonight"
"Why?" you ask.
"This guy is looking for something that belongs to us. He might have already found it. He's gonna go into hiding. We have to take care of him asap. I can't tell you more, Mikey. You know how it goes"
"How much?"
"Fifty"
"Must be something big. What is it, Donnie? C'mon, tell me"
"I can't. We got the tools for you. We prepared a stash for you to speed things up"
"I don't like that, Donnie"
"There's no time. They're clean, you can trust me"
You stare at your empty coffee mug, then at Don. He seems twitchy. His eyes are nailed at you, waiting. He's nervous as hell, and it shows. His ass must be on the line too. You love watching him writhe, there, in his little chair with his shiny, combed hair and ridiculously impeccable clothes.