Abe led them through the sidewinding alleys and incomprehensible architecture through to the maze that was the Old City. There were old people here, people who'd held on to these buildings with tight fists in the hope the property might be valudiable one day - or simply because they were too stubborn to move. Like their very souls had been mortared into place by the original brick-work of these buildings.
"And someone around here has that kinda money?" Shimko said, doubtful. "You better not be shining me on, or you might have another size 11 leather dinner."
"Take a look yourself," said Abe. He led them down one alleyway so old, it actually had moss on it's cobblestoned path. They came into an inner courtyard. "There it is," Abe said. He walked over to a dark corner, and opened an old wooden gate. "Come on in," said Abe.
"How about you go first?" said Stinky. he would never admit it, but the place was starting to get to him. He'd never been this deep in the Old City before. Never seemed to be any percentage in it. He was just starting to realize how much he didn't even realize he didn't know.
"Scared?" said Abe, smiling.
"You wanna find out?" said Stinky. He pushed his suit sleave back, to reveal a tensed up arm with a fist at the end.
"Fine, fine," said Abe. He went inside. Stinky took a breath and took stock of himself. There was no way he couldn't go in, now, no matter what was on the other end of that door. "You bring up the rear, Bull, and watch out for any nonsense," he said. He readjusted his collar and stepped forward.
In the doorway, he suddenly was in a garden. He looked around, bewildered. The walls had been brick before he stepped in; but now, on the other side of them, they were glass. He could see the alleyway that he had stepped in. Ahread there was a checkerboard marble tiled floor, that led to a carved wooden stairway which split to left and right at the top. The left and right sections led through more old, old, very classy and certainly very expensive hallways which led past shelves of books, sculptures and curiosities.
Stinky looked back at the walls, bewildered.
"Holographs," explained a pert female voice. He looked around and saw a cute young red-headed girl, probably like 19. Too cute. With a large golden bracelet taking up most of her right forearm. It kind of set off her red hair, too. Shimko didn't like that. That's because Shimko liked girls, a little too much. He avoided them as much as he could, while still being a tough guy. he knew inside that for the right woman, he would do anything he wanted.
"It's ok, for a cheap trick," Stinky Shimko responded. Never let them know you're impressed. The girl laughed, tho. "Oh yes, it only costs a million a year to maintain. I'm sure you spend that just on coffee."
"Don't get wise, chickee," said Stinky. "let's cut to the chase. Where's the money man? We're looking for investors."
She frowned. "How do you know I'm not an investor?"
"Same way you know I ain't a ballerina. 'Cause I ain't."
She turned to Abe. "Uncle Abe, are you sure these are the kind of men my grandfather should see?"
Abe turned to her. "Yes, my dear. Strange as it may seem, these are just the sort of men we need."
She looked doubtful. "Well I'll be in my office."
"Perhaps we'll chat later. This way, Mr. Shimo and Mr. Durham?"
"Why, certainly, Mr. Deadbeat This-better-not-be-baloney," said Shimko. "Later, doll. Watch out who you talk to."
"If I may return some advice, watch out how you talk, Mr. Shimko," she said. She started toying with her large golden bracelet. "As you can see from the walls of this house, what looks one way can be suddenly surprising."
Bull and Stinky followed Abe up the stairs, and on down the hallway. Stinky felt a need for a shot of stim or a grass cig. He suppressed it.
"'Uncle Abe'?" Stinky said. "You been holding out on me. You're related to this kind of money, and you didn't pay me back right away?"
"If I had this kinda money, I wouldn't've had to borrow from you in the first place, now would I?th" said Abe.
"Watch the tone deadbeat," said Stinky. Bull grunted affirmation.
"This is my sister's family. They didn't like me. Now that I got this deal to go to them with, I can get in though. this can set me up, if it's done right. Now that I gotta do it with you-"
"Damn right you do," Shimko stuck in.
"-We need to do this as smoothly as possible. Got it?"
"Oh, I got it," said Stinky. "Just you better get my money and then some. Where's the cat with the cash?"
"Right behind this door," said Abe. "Now, stay calm."
"Sure I can stay calm." said Stinky.
"Good. Right through here-" Abe pointed down a hallway. "You first," said Stinky. Abe sighed, and started down the hallway.
They were barely 3 strides in when a hole opened, and Stinky and Bull sunk straight down into a sticky net.
"Stay right there," said Abe. "He'll be with you in a minute." And then he laughed. It was a kind of crazy, unnerving cackle that Stinky didn't really feel like hearing right now.
"You're dead, you know that?"
"Sshhh!" said Abe. "He doesn't like loud sounds. They make him irritable." Stinky looked off into the distance.
A spider with a human head was coming near him. As it got closer to the light coming through the hole in the seeing, Stinky saw another couple of heads. A couple seemed dead; they had newer heads growing from them, kind of like mushrooms growing from the side of a rotting tree.
"Helllooo," said one of the heads. "We understand you're offering a startup investment. We are....starving for such an opportunity."
All the heads gave forth a similar sort of hissing laugh. They barely had enough lung capacity, stinky guessed. Ah well. Maybe he should offer the ma cigarette so they'd run out and choke.
(to be continued)
Monday, July 28, 2008
Criminal Venture, part 2
Abe tried to speak, but only coughed and sputtered. "Answer me already!" Stinky demanded. Bull pointed wordlessly to Stinky's foot, and Stinky realized was still on Abe's larynx. Stinky removed his foot, slightly embarassed.
Abe's diction was a bit labored due to Stinky's size-11 impression on his larynx - but Stinky's face showed no patience for him to heal. Abe squeaked out "It's those guys at the Urban Detox. They're getting some big thing together. No one knows what."
"So why the hell you in our territory, without our money?" said Stinky. "Again."
"I...I figured if I could find them an investor..."
Bull and Stinky looked at each other. "Someone around here has 5 megaclams just to throw around?" Stinky yelled. "And you didn't even tell us about it?"
"Yes! But not give away! Invest." Abe spat, and sat up. "I'd front for the investor. They poney up, I take the risk, and we throw in. When it's done I give 'em back their money plus interest and even pay you back." He wiped some dirt off his sidewalk-pressed suit. "All I gotta do is find a sick bastard to join their crew."
"And where you gonna find the sick bastard?"
"Actually," said Abe, "I was kinda thinking of you."
Stinky stared at him for a second. He laughed. "You got sand, Abe! Me, work for you? I should stamp you flat just for that."
"You could get back all the money I owe you-"
"-which you better give me anyway, if you like breathing-"
"-Plus five times more," said Abe.
That stopped Stinky in his tracks. "Whaddayou think, Bull?"
Bull frowned. "Tough fuckers," he exclaimed. That was almost a speech for Bull.
"Yeah, true," Stinky said. "The Urban Detox crew don't screw around." Urban Detox was a store and meeting place created for new-age urban hipsters. They sold teas and techniques to bless the bad vibes of urban living right out of people's auras. They started up as a small store on Main, and in recent years had exploded across the country. Their gimmicky new-age stuff actually seemed to work - at least for taking out the urban stress. The irony was that their stores were great for people meet up who've had their bad vibes blessed out - they just love to commit crimes.
The Urban Detox crew had liked the chain. They bought into it, and helped spread the chain through all sorts of not-at-all-legal means. The Urban Detox chain was a great investment for any criminal entrepreneurs - a great way to recruity go-getters who weren't do-gooders. They had all been rolling in the dough until the Homeless Brigade got pissed at the disappearing miserable vibes, and decided to swamp the Urban Dextox joints with more crappy vibrations than a bunch of Bay Area investors could be expected to handle. This was called the "Colt war " - not because colt guns were used, but because the Homeless Brigade left empty bottles of colt .45 everywhere they went.
Stinky could have been in on the ground floor as an investor, but he had decided it just wasn't his style. Later as he saw them opening all over the place, he tried to tell himself he didn't regret it.
Yeah. He'd love to get in on the ground floor - and maybe get a little close to those jerks who'd done so well without him.
"Where's our investor?" Stinky asked Abe. The call had been made; Bull turned to Abe as well.
(continued)
Abe's diction was a bit labored due to Stinky's size-11 impression on his larynx - but Stinky's face showed no patience for him to heal. Abe squeaked out "It's those guys at the Urban Detox. They're getting some big thing together. No one knows what."
"So why the hell you in our territory, without our money?" said Stinky. "Again."
"I...I figured if I could find them an investor..."
Bull and Stinky looked at each other. "Someone around here has 5 megaclams just to throw around?" Stinky yelled. "And you didn't even tell us about it?"
"Yes! But not give away! Invest." Abe spat, and sat up. "I'd front for the investor. They poney up, I take the risk, and we throw in. When it's done I give 'em back their money plus interest and even pay you back." He wiped some dirt off his sidewalk-pressed suit. "All I gotta do is find a sick bastard to join their crew."
"And where you gonna find the sick bastard?"
"Actually," said Abe, "I was kinda thinking of you."
Stinky stared at him for a second. He laughed. "You got sand, Abe! Me, work for you? I should stamp you flat just for that."
"You could get back all the money I owe you-"
"-which you better give me anyway, if you like breathing-"
"-Plus five times more," said Abe.
That stopped Stinky in his tracks. "Whaddayou think, Bull?"
Bull frowned. "Tough fuckers," he exclaimed. That was almost a speech for Bull.
"Yeah, true," Stinky said. "The Urban Detox crew don't screw around." Urban Detox was a store and meeting place created for new-age urban hipsters. They sold teas and techniques to bless the bad vibes of urban living right out of people's auras. They started up as a small store on Main, and in recent years had exploded across the country. Their gimmicky new-age stuff actually seemed to work - at least for taking out the urban stress. The irony was that their stores were great for people meet up who've had their bad vibes blessed out - they just love to commit crimes.
The Urban Detox crew had liked the chain. They bought into it, and helped spread the chain through all sorts of not-at-all-legal means. The Urban Detox chain was a great investment for any criminal entrepreneurs - a great way to recruity go-getters who weren't do-gooders. They had all been rolling in the dough until the Homeless Brigade got pissed at the disappearing miserable vibes, and decided to swamp the Urban Dextox joints with more crappy vibrations than a bunch of Bay Area investors could be expected to handle. This was called the "Colt war " - not because colt guns were used, but because the Homeless Brigade left empty bottles of colt .45 everywhere they went.
Stinky could have been in on the ground floor as an investor, but he had decided it just wasn't his style. Later as he saw them opening all over the place, he tried to tell himself he didn't regret it.
Yeah. He'd love to get in on the ground floor - and maybe get a little close to those jerks who'd done so well without him.
"Where's our investor?" Stinky asked Abe. The call had been made; Bull turned to Abe as well.
(continued)
Thursday, July 24, 2008
The radio
It just appeared before me, like some forgotten monolith from my grand-aunts' and uncle's house, crossed with Space Station Xanadu.
The combination was kind of...monolicious.
It told strange things and tales. Alien music groups; temp agencies for superhuman assassins; leftovers from armageddons which Gods keep in their fridge...invisible lands sandwiched between the air; arts of diplomancy...and more, on every different channel.
I decided, why not share some of them with you?
Some of these things might not make sense in your reality. At least, not yet. Don't worry. If it isn't clear now, the answer is in another dimension...that's right around the corner.
Tuesday, July 22, 2008
Criminal Venture, part 1: Initial Public Enemy Offering!
Stinky Shimko reached for his wallet. Another man was holding it, but it was Stinky's now. That's because Stinky had his foot firmly holding the other man's throat to the sidewalk.
"Stinky..." the wallet donor gasped. "Could you...why don't we..."
"Shaddap," Stinky explained. He started going through the wallet. Stinky's business associate Bull Markham fidgeted slightly, bored. Business as usual.
Bull was a big Irish-Welsh mutt with a face like a bulldog who rarely said more than a word at a time. Stinky was nearly his exact opposite - a tall whip-thin half-Japanese half-Italian gangster who called himself a GuiNip. Stinky and Bull got along great together because they always knew exactly where each other stood - Stinky had all the answers, and Bull never asked any questions.
"You hadda show your face here again, Abe," Stinky said to the man beneath his shoe. "Don't you know what I gotta do now? I just had this suit cleaned. And you don't even have enough your wallet to cover it."
"Inconsiderate," agreed Bull.
"Disrespectful," Stinky furthered. "We told you to beat it once, Abe. What the hell are you doing back in our-" Stinky found a folded-up piece of paper in the unfortunate Abe's wallet.
"What the hell's this?" Stinky asked. He started reading it aloud. It said:
"Well?" said Stinky. "I'm waiting." The hapless Abe motioned to indicate that the lack of a shoe on his windpipe would greatly aid his speaking.
(to be continued)
"Stinky..." the wallet donor gasped. "Could you...why don't we..."
"Shaddap," Stinky explained. He started going through the wallet. Stinky's business associate Bull Markham fidgeted slightly, bored. Business as usual.
Bull was a big Irish-Welsh mutt with a face like a bulldog who rarely said more than a word at a time. Stinky was nearly his exact opposite - a tall whip-thin half-Japanese half-Italian gangster who called himself a GuiNip. Stinky and Bull got along great together because they always knew exactly where each other stood - Stinky had all the answers, and Bull never asked any questions.
"You hadda show your face here again, Abe," Stinky said to the man beneath his shoe. "Don't you know what I gotta do now? I just had this suit cleaned. And you don't even have enough your wallet to cover it."
"Inconsiderate," agreed Bull.
"Disrespectful," Stinky furthered. "We told you to beat it once, Abe. What the hell are you doing back in our-" Stinky found a folded-up piece of paper in the unfortunate Abe's wallet.
"What the hell's this?" Stinky asked. He started reading it aloud. It said:
Put it this way - if you're a cop, stop reading and start running. Unless you're on the take, in which case see subsection "c". We rob stuff, so's we can provide the absolute best for our customers - ourselves. We are the guys who were in that other thing last year. We are planning this new thing here. And due to Greasy Tony losing big at craps last year, and then the game getting busted thanks to a certain songbird who shall remain headless, we are looking for investors. We got a big haul planned. We gonna be the Bill Gates of robbing muthafuckas. You're nuts if you think we're telling you. That's how. 1. Moolah This'll take $50 mil to set it up. You get one share of the haul for each $5 mil. 2. Bastids Every one of you rich bastids can front the cash, nominates 5 of their favorite sick killer bastids. We look over their resumes, and pick 2 sick bastids for every rich bastid. Any extra skillsets we need, we take referrals from their talent agencies. Yeah, agents - everyone's a big shot now. 3. Broads You might want to start lining up the broads to count your money in they underwear. Payout at 10 to 1 per share, guaranteed. Guaranteed how? Every one of us, you and the team o' sick bastids is getting some sorta Snake Plissken tiny bombs put in they neck. You know, "Escape From New York"? Anyone starts acting stupid,Boom! Instant dead fuckup. Lotsa dry-cleaning. If you never seen “Escape From New York”, go see it. How you gonna invest without research? Once we count up the haul, we'll even launder it right into a great offshore account for each one of you. It’s an IRA - with the IRA. Just don't let 'em invest it in potatoes, beer or bullets and you're home free. There better not be any more goddamn questions. We look forward to robbing great business together. Appendix As in, we gonna rip yours out with a rusty fishhook if you don’t ante up in the next 24 hours. Subsection a: Past success The thing 2 years ago: fuhgedaboutit. The thing 5 years ago: like butter. The thing 6 years ago: rated “Bada bing!” by the Five Families Index Subsection b: Tax deduction Anyone of you even thinks about this near the taxman, and we deduct your head. Subsection c: Capiche? Cops stink. But if you got $5 mil, you musta done somethin right. List who you did it for, or start shopping for a coffin. |
"Well?" said Stinky. "I'm waiting." The hapless Abe motioned to indicate that the lack of a shoe on his windpipe would greatly aid his speaking.
(to be continued)
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