Tea Time

 Shiawasena jikan tea house. I take the last puff off my cigarette, flick it; snarling and stretching my neck from side to side. It's showtime. These two bastards wait for me at the front door — wide, like refrigerators with legs — they size me up before letting me walk in. Nice little place for such nasty business; pinewood walls, and tiny oak wood tables. And across the room, a wood bar rail with a tapestry hanging over the edge. The man behind the bar cleans — tiny guy, almost cute — in his apron. Place is empty except for the prick sitting in the middle of the room with that smug look on his face: Hiroto Matsumoto. I'd like to wipe that look right off his face. The two bodyguards frisk me: one takes my top half, and the other takes the bottom. I want them to feel my cock and ass, to know they have to do bitch work. I'm the man they're scared of.

“Please, sit down, Mr. Babrick," Hiroto says.

I take my seat, and the two refrigerators take their spot standing behind me. I could take them, I could take them both. They're big, but I'll bet I'm stronger. And I know I'm faster. 

“How was your flight?” he asks with that smug look.

“It was all right. I finally got some sleep.”

“Very good. I've taken the liberty of ordering some hojicha tea, it's traditional Japanese tea, very old. Very good for you,” he says in that accent of his. I squint at him: stare him down. The little runt. I could squash him like the bug he is. The tiny chair under my ass flexes from my weight as I lean my elbows on the table.

“I dunno, Hiroto, forgive me for saying this, but I don't really trust you.”

“Please, it's all right. I drink out of same pot… I have nothing to hide. This only business, nothing more.”

I lean back and square my shoulders to show him who’s in charge as I lace my fingers.

“Well alright, have it your way.”

“I always have it my way, Mr. Babrick... always.”

There's an awkward moment of silence as he smiles at me friendly and I can hear the two mongoloids behinds me breathing: out of breath from their own weight. The air struggling to get down those fat necks like they're snoring while awake.

“So why don't we just cut to the chase; I didn't fly halfway across the world to have tea time with you.”

“Of course, Of course.”

“Where's the girl?”

“She's..”, he stops and leans back in his chair, crossing one leg over the other as he sighs, “Safe.”

“Safe?”

“Yes.”

I squint at him and lean forward, elbows on the table, as I cross my arms. I can hear myself almost growling: is it in my head or am I really a rabid dog?

“How do I know that?”

He stares, smiling, legs crossed like a girl. The little man from behind the bar walks over with a tray holding a pot of tea and two tiny cups. Damn Asians, everything's so small over here. He uncrosses his legs and leans forward to pour himself a cup.

“May I?” he asks, indicating with the pot that he'd like to pour me some. I nod. “You know, it never had to come to this. Your employer cou have jus given me what I wan.”

I breathe out a quick laugh, but muffling it—hiding it — I put my face in my hands for a second. When I look at the prick, his face is colored with confusion and I can't suppress the smile on my face. I bet he never expected this reaction, not with my reputation. But it truly is funny to me. The whole thing is a fucking joke.

“That's your justification?”

His face looks more mad than confused now.

“I don't think you know who I am,” Hiroto says, his smile gone.

“Oh, I know who you are,” I tell him. I lean my right forearm on the edge of the table and my other fist in my muscular thigh.

“May I?” I ask with an open palm. The tea is looking awfully good now.

“Yes."

I grab the cup, a child's cup in my hand, and I take a sip.

“Damn, not bad. That is some good tea.”

“Who am I, Mr. Babrick?”

“What?”

I'm just fucking with him now.

“A moment ago you say you know who I am, so I ask politely, who am I?”

“Well, I'll tell you Hiroto, but first I want to tell you a story while I enjoy this fine tea. That's good Japanese craftsmen ship right there.”

“Craftsmanship?”

“You have time for a story, don't you?”

“What is this?”

The fat fucks behind me growl.

“Come on, I came all this way to see you. The least you could do is indulge me. Then we'll get to business.”

He leans back and gestures with an open hand.

“As you wish.”

I lean forward on the table and stare him in the eyes, hard as steel, but my mouth is a smile now because I know I'm going to like this part.

“There was once a man that owned half the world, but it wasn't enough for him. He wanted the whole thing; pretty greedy if you ask me, but men like this have to exist in the world. You know why?”

“Why, Mr. Babrick?”

“Because if men like this didn't exist, I would have no purpose in life. And if I had no purpose in life, I'd probably be a really wicked man, off somewhere with a bunch of whores, drinking my liver away, putting powder up my nose... Men like this give people like me purpose. And when guys like me have purpose, well, that's a lot better for everyone around us, for the whole world really.”

“Is this story going anywhere?” he asks, smiling now, thinking I'm some idiot.

“I got off track there. Anyway, this man owned half the world, and it wasn't enough. So he started taking from other people: things he didn't even need. Anything he could get his hands on, and you know what happened to him?”

“Please, do tell me,” he says sarcastically.

I lean forward to tell him how this whole thing ends, to tell him I know who he is, and what happens to guys like him.

“That dumb motherfucker fucked with the wrong person and got his head blown off,” I say with a smile. He smiles his own stupid cocky smile, a smile I know I'll never have to look at again.

“Very good story, I'm impress...”

BAM! The ring of a well-aimed magnum fills my ears as I crouch under the table quickly before his head turns into hamburger meat. Now it's time to go; I have to act fast. I swing my leg in a swooping motion, taking the legs out from underneath one of the big boys. The other one's still in a state of shock. I jump on him and crack him in the nose two times — fast — before landing a well-placed blow into the other one’s crotch; he keels over in pain. I land a few more blows to this one’s face while the one with the busted balls recovers: he recovers fast. He’s on top of me before I can finish the first one off good; tackles me and holds me down: he's stronger than I thought. He lands a blow to my face — it's a good one, my eyes water and I can taste blood — but I can take, I can take a lot more than this. I notice over his shoulder the others recovering and on his feet. He reaches for a piece from his waist. That's when my little friend comes to the rescue. He's across the tea house with his cannon and he blows the bastard’s head off before he can do anything. The one on top of me looks around, startled; dumb motherfucker didn't even realize how his boss lost his head. It was my little friend: I never go into a negotiation without backup.

“Luke, Luke!” he yells out to me. “I'll get him!”

“NO!”

I need him still. I muster up the strength to flip him off me; him being startled is enough for me to get him off. I'm on top of him, cracking down fists: it's interrogation time.

“WHERE'S THE GIRL!!”

His face is covered in blood now, his eyes wild and scared. I give him time to answer, but he's too confused.

“YOSHI, HOW MUCH TIME DO WE HAVE?”

“Not much Luke, Hiroto's is very powerful man. We have to get out of here!”

“WHERE’S THE GIRL!” I yell in the bastard’s face.

“SHE UPSTAIRS! SHE UPSTAIRS! I SEE THEM TAKE HER,” Yoshi informs me. That's all I need to know. “LUKE, WE HAVE TO GO! MORE COMING! I KILL THAT ONE TOO!”

I crack him once more and leave him laying like a slug: he ain't getting up anytime soon. I reach into his waist and pull out a piece: I'll need this for later. He's not a big man anymore.

“No Yoshi...” I say as I get off him and to my feet. “Let him live with it. Let him live with all he's done, all of it, knowing that there're men like me in the world that will always be around.”

He whimpers pathetic, like a little girl. Yoshi and I sprint up the stairs in the far corner and he leads the way to where the girl is. I try to open the door, but it's locked. I can hear her crying behind the door.

“Don't worry, I'm coming, hunny,” I tell her through the door. “I'm one of the good guys.”

“Luke, Luke, we have to hurry!”

I get a running start and barrel my way through the door with a big boot. She’s sitting in the corner, tears in her eye. I rush over to her, with Yoshi right behind me. I get down on a knee and look her in those watery eyes.

“Don't worry anymore; we're here to take you home. There's nothing to be afraid of anymore... do you trust me?”

She wipes her eyes and nods. Good girl. 

“Come on Luke, we got a go!”

Now's the fun part, getting out of here in one piece. As long as Yoshi's got that cannon, there's no way they'll take us alive.