My story doesn't start or end happy, it starts with a beer and ends with a bang. I was drinking some fuzz into my mind in a little ten seater at the west sides when I noticed I somehow out ordered my tab, actually I'd bought three beers more. This shouldn't be allowed to happen because I didn't have any god damned money. Tabs have limits for a reason but the bitch that was bringing me this devil's juice didn't think to tell me I'd ran out of my hard earned credit. The big burly fuck that pours this shit down the throats of the mindless masses, me included, comes over and gets in my face telling me I need to pony up the cash for my over drawn tab. In my state of inebriated mind fuckery I decided to cuss him out and stand up for the little guy, I wasn't going to pay him shit, he was going down, I was leaving her with my head held high… Or not.
I woke up in darkness, the only thing I remember from the fight, if you can call it that was the crunch of something hitting something padded and the feeling of glass shattering around my head and liquor going all over me. I'm tied, hands behind my back, ankles buckled together. I don’t know where the hell I am, it feels like... well, like I just had a bottle of liquor broke on my skull. Footsteps are coming towards me. I don't notice my eyes were covered until I tried to look up to see who it is. I start to cuss the man out but it's muffled by the gag in my mouth.
"Hey look, he's struggling." A rough voice I’ve never heard before comments.
A man to the right of me can be heard moving forward, "No shit." He says, in a voice that sounds really close. With a groan of pain I try to pull myself away but a strong hand grabs the back of my head.
"Haha, he thinks he's going to get away." Says Mr. Gruff.
"You know, stating the obvious isn't going to make you look any smarter. We've got a job to do, shut the fuck up and hand me that gun." A bit of shuffling can be heard as the obvious peon hands the boss man the gun. I don’t know, per se, what they are going to do with that knife but I can think of more then on thing. All of these things scare me. I shriek into the gag and begin to struggle as best I can.
"You tried to stiff my bar, normally I'd take it in stride, maybe just charge you double and cut of a finger. But you made my brother have to hit you in the head with a bottle. I had to pay off a few people so they wouldn't say shit and my brother quit. You fuck with my family and you die."
He raises the pistol to my head but pauses. The blind fold is removed from my head in a rough manner, jerking back my neck. I'd be complaining if I didn't know I was going to die. With a smile of satisfaction the boss lifts his gun, a gruesome revolver big enough to take down a cow. With a soft, almost gentle smile the man pulls the trigger.