Post by Shamino Warhen Ph.D on Feb 15, 2007 6:21:21 GMT 1
red
The sand was soaked with it. Shamino sat on a lawn chair, off season, sipping a fancy virgin fruit drink. After all, he could be driving. A corpse lay beside him, and he stared idly up at the moonlight. A man was on each side of him, standing quietly, doing nothing. That's what they were paid for, doing nothing- unless asked. "Well, boys..." Shamino said, tossing the drink, glass and all, into the ocean. He removed a small cigarillo from his breast tin and slipped it into his mouth. A quick vertical trick with his engraved zippo had him lighting it. He inhaled, let the taste linger, than exhaled, taking in the expensive aroma. "The best tobacco Cubans can roll..." He said quietly. He looked down at the body as if he hadn't noticed it before. "Oh my me..." He said, raising his hand to his mouth in a mocking manner.
The oriental gentleman looked to be in his early thirties. He was well dressed, he was well groomed, he had some cocaine and a revolver on him. He also had a headwound the size of the mississippi. Beside him was a young, sixteen year old asian girl, most likely his daughter from an early fuck. She would come to, stare up at Shamino, realize she was gagged and bound, and scream. She's stare down at her father, she'd look up at Shamino.
Oh my god, they found us- and the drugs, and everything! God, The fucking SWEDISH MAFIA has cut out the Triads? My Go---[/b]
A bullet interupted her thoughts, and her brainmatter.
Shamino removed the silencer from his pistol, and handed it to a suit. The man then snapped the plastic silencer in half, and destroyed the pieces in his palm. The suit would gently tuck those plastic pieces into the young woman's bra, patting her bleeding head softly. "Poor girl." The man said quietly. "So young, she could of been far more beautiful."
"They say breast development stops around her age." Shamino shrugged, pistol being holstered and with the safety on. "So not really. Look, take care of this mess and you get a bonus, alright?" Shamino waved at the old 1980's Mercedes Limo, and the back door popped open, Gullwing style.
Shamino walked across the beach in an odd pattern, wearing Converse running shoes that did not match his suit whatsoever. He threw the shoes into the garbage can as he entered the limo. Upon sitting inside the comfy leather, heated interior, he slipped his old shoes back on. "Take me home, i'm tired." Shamino said through a yawn.
The sand was soaked with it. Shamino sat on a lawn chair, off season, sipping a fancy virgin fruit drink. After all, he could be driving. A corpse lay beside him, and he stared idly up at the moonlight. A man was on each side of him, standing quietly, doing nothing. That's what they were paid for, doing nothing- unless asked. "Well, boys..." Shamino said, tossing the drink, glass and all, into the ocean. He removed a small cigarillo from his breast tin and slipped it into his mouth. A quick vertical trick with his engraved zippo had him lighting it. He inhaled, let the taste linger, than exhaled, taking in the expensive aroma. "The best tobacco Cubans can roll..." He said quietly. He looked down at the body as if he hadn't noticed it before. "Oh my me..." He said, raising his hand to his mouth in a mocking manner.
The oriental gentleman looked to be in his early thirties. He was well dressed, he was well groomed, he had some cocaine and a revolver on him. He also had a headwound the size of the mississippi. Beside him was a young, sixteen year old asian girl, most likely his daughter from an early fuck. She would come to, stare up at Shamino, realize she was gagged and bound, and scream. She's stare down at her father, she'd look up at Shamino.
Oh my god, they found us- and the drugs, and everything! God, The fucking SWEDISH MAFIA has cut out the Triads? My Go---[/b]
A bullet interupted her thoughts, and her brainmatter.
Shamino removed the silencer from his pistol, and handed it to a suit. The man then snapped the plastic silencer in half, and destroyed the pieces in his palm. The suit would gently tuck those plastic pieces into the young woman's bra, patting her bleeding head softly. "Poor girl." The man said quietly. "So young, she could of been far more beautiful."
"They say breast development stops around her age." Shamino shrugged, pistol being holstered and with the safety on. "So not really. Look, take care of this mess and you get a bonus, alright?" Shamino waved at the old 1980's Mercedes Limo, and the back door popped open, Gullwing style.
Shamino walked across the beach in an odd pattern, wearing Converse running shoes that did not match his suit whatsoever. He threw the shoes into the garbage can as he entered the limo. Upon sitting inside the comfy leather, heated interior, he slipped his old shoes back on. "Take me home, i'm tired." Shamino said through a yawn.
