Killing with Names

**WARNING, uses powerful language and depicts blood and death**

"So, what's the catch, Mammy Two Shoes?"

Two people. Sitting there. A light swinging back and forth. Me and him.

"Loyalty. Forever and ever. Until you die. Which I have faith that you are not going to, bitch."

My day was starting off normal. I get dressed for another assassination. But, right as I was driving off, a guy t-boned me.

I got knocked out.

Now I woke up here. I never knew that Crick had the guts. I saw him in the driver's seat. Well, I think I saw him in the driver's seat...

But a table sits between us. A piece of paper, a knife, and a pen sit there.

"And a little mischief."

"Anything else... like other things that include, "The stuff"

"Bullshit! You are just overreacting. Now. Sign."

The knife lifts.

"Hold up, Darth Vader. Dont want to get killed this early." I say.

He looks at me, perplexed but still pierces his finger and places it on the paper. Blood is being pressed into the paper. He flips the knife over, blade to him, and reaches it out.

"Know what?"

"What." he retracts his hand.

He wears a mask. His hands are covered with gloves, and he wears a leather jacket and a turtleneck. I place down the knife and take up the pen, take it apart, and assemble it back again. I fiddle with it, leaving the shell on the table.

"Just because you, Mr. Snuggluffagus, are hiring me now, doesn't mean I don't already have a business to complete."

"Ah." He pauses, "Okay. Once you've completed it, then, if you are up for it."

I stand.

"I am always up for it, Dr. Claw"

I slowly walk away from the table, my back turned to it. Then, I hear a click of safety on a gun.

"You wouldn't," I say. "Yes. You know I fucking would."

"Really?"

He nods.

Crick is such a trickster.

I sit back down and look at him with a suspicious eye. He knew what I was questioning in my head.

"Power? Money?" I ask, my arms stretching out.

He slowly nods but looks up at me. "You are so humble. So I say this humbly, what’s the point of money when you have power?"

"True, true. But what happens when you want something and they are not afraid of the power?" I put my feet up onto the table.

"You kill them, threatening anyone else to kill them to give that to you." He smiles. Looking at me, dead in the eyes. He doesn't blink.

Silence fills the space. We stare at each other.

"Did I say something...? For fuck's sake, just say SOMETHING!"

He slams his hand on the table. the paper, shifts. The knife clatters on the floor. The shell of the pen falls onto my lap. He lifts his hand.

A dent. His hand. Not Crick's.

"Who..." I look at the dent intently.

"None of your business. Now. Where were..."

Crick lost his middle finger, so he couldn't flip anyone off, so he wore gloves on both hands, and he filled the right hand's middle finger with tin foil.

This dent had all of the fingers. Punching a table with enough strength can bring sometimes bring truth.

He clears his throat and my eyes go from his face to his hand.

"Fine. What do you want to know...?"

"You sound like him. Act like him. But your middle finger isn't gone."

"Like Crick?"

"How do you know him."

"Why is that a need-to-know?" He says nervously. "Because there were only five people who knew about his middle finger."

I start to chuckle. "Why are you laughing?"

"You are one finger off of being the Six-fingered man!"

He looks at me. "Now there are six." He replies cooly, waving off the pun.

"Augh you fartknocker." I say, pounding my hand on the table.

I hear two snickers from behind me. "What's so funny...?"

"My guards think that your substitute for a cuss word is funny."

"What. Fartknocker?"

More snickers.

"Shut up you two." He says. The snickers stop.

"Where were we... Ah yes. You signing."

"Oh. I need to get business done. And I think my target is just down the road by now." I check the clock on my wrist.

"All right. We will escort you to them, but after that, we are going straight back." He says, standing up. "Hey. Snuggluffagus! I never got your name."

"Jason," he replies.

We walk out of the room and find ourselves in an office building. We walk out, and I ask for a sniper and a couple of bombs with a trigger.

"Why would you need that?"

"Because. I like to shoot from far away, and if the sniping plan doesn't work, then I'll bomb them." I pause and finish, "And I'll need your help."

"What do you need assistance with?"

I smile and say, "Just a little murder."

We get to the spot and find my target. Marjorie Pinch.

"I need you to go down there, place the mini bomb in her coat pocket, and leave. Do whatever you can." I say.

"Then my bodyguards have to stay with you."

"I know."

"Good. Do you know what she looks like?"

"Yes. She is wearing a grey blazer, with matching pants, and a white and black blouse. She wears her hair up in a bun, with black and white flowers."

He nods and goes down.

A few minutes later I see Jason in the office window asking her for a meeting. He hugs her and gives me a thumbs-up.

He leaves the room, and I press the trigger. The room blows up, and I duck down. People look around and see the two bodyguards near me.

"You set us up!" One says.

"Why don't you keep this a secret? come." I motion for the bodyguards to follow me.

We get to a point where I can clearly see Jason. I grab my gloves and put them on, as I get out my sniper. I whisper, "Prepare to die..." And I shot him dead, right as he walks out. I hand my sniper to one of the bodyguards.

"Bye, you little crudmuffins," I say, waving goodbye as I run down the stairs. I hear muffled snickers behind me.

Police run up, and say, "Did you do it?"

"No, no! There are two men with guns and a sniper up there!"

I show the police the men, and I slip out and out of the building.

I see the intersection in front of the building bustle with people, trying to get a picture of it. Media News station reporters fight their way through to report the incident out into the world.

I smile and walk off.

"Nice try Crick. You almost got me."