poor sap

A man dressed in a tattered black one-piece suit was walking down a lonely street, in the pouring rain. Dried blood and mud on his legs and sleeves, his red tie managing to remain pristine. He walks down the street with a grimace on his face and a sad look in his eyes. He's going to his home...his empty home. The man starts reminiscing about the best of times. Times when he was going on walks, or playing catch, or petting her fur on a snowy winter night or swimming with her on a boiling summer day. Times when, she would escape the fence and chase the neighborhood cat, or when she would sneak treats and food, and when caught would make the best face. He'll never see her sleeping on the end of his bed, never sitting at the backdoor wagging her tail, asking to be let back inside, never see her lazing about on the porch. He'll never see her smile, or hear her bark again.

The man walks back to his empty home, with an empty heart.

(1 week before)

"He's here boss." his lackey informs him of the obvious.

"Bar the door, don't let anyone in, call the boss and ask for reinforcements and for Christs sake get me a mother fucking gun!" He was just a branch manager, he's never had to deal with major confrontations or serious life endangering scenarios such as the one he's currently in. He wasn't trained for this shit.

*BOOMBOOM*

*BANG* x8

Hearing explosions followed by gunshots, sweat drips from his brow looking like he just spilt water on his head. Gunshots continued ringing out until the *click* of an empty gun sounded, followed by painful grunting and screaming.

*Tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, taap* The eerie foot steps ended Infront of his 9ft tall, dark oak double door creating a painful silence. A chill ran down his back and he shivered involuntarily.

*bing, bing, bing*

"Is that a bom-" the nearest lackey to the door said a moment before the door got blasted of it's hinges slamming into him, turning most of his body into a paste with chunks here and there.

Coming out of the smoke is a black umbrella with golden accents, spinning menacingly.

"FIRE" All the lackeys open fire with their automatic rifles, drowning the man in a hailstorm of bullets. However, contrary to their expectations he starts walking toward the gun that the dead lackey had.

They shoot their guns with desperation, knowing full well who is behind that shield and that as soon as he gets a gun they're all dead.

*Caching* The sound of a round being chambered might as well be their death knell.

*Click, click, click, click* They're out of bullets.... They're out of bullets...Oh no.

"No,no,no,no!!" The cry of a Deadman hoping this is just a dream. But it is not.

*Bang*x6 six gunshots ring out within the span of a second, in the next, 6 bodies fall to the floor, with a hole in their head.

"Sorry for my manners but I didn't think you would sit down and have tea with me." The now revealed John Slick says charmingly

The only remaining man alive was the manager sweating profusely, luckily or unluckily for him, without a gun.

"M-M-Mr. S-Slick.... what c-can I help y-you with?." he says, stuttering out his words. The stress he was under was enough to give a single mother with 2 kids living in Chicago a run for her money.

"Firstly, Mr...." He pulls out a clipboard. " Mr. Smith, firstly you can give me all your Danakes (gold coins), then tell me precisely where your boss is." He waits a few moments for a response, getting none. "So.. plan telling me willingly or will I have to make your transit into hell very, very, very painful."

John fires his gun a few times into the floor, heating the muzzle in the process, he then presses it against the managers ear lobe, causing sizzling and screaming sounds to follow.

"I'll tell you, I'll tell you, just don't hurt me!" He gasps for air after yelling his answer. "H-He's at the Duce, a night club!"

"You're sure?"

"I'm sure, I'm sure, 100%, just please let me go, please.. please!"

"Sorry, but..." Putting 2 through his brain Slick walks out of the 3 storey office building heading straight to his main target.

By the time reinforcements arrived, it was too late, corpses we're strewn across the entire building, each killed by a gun or miscellaneous items such as a pencil, ice breaker, pool cue, staples, fax machine, and a mouse cord used to strangle a poor sap.

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shorter than normal cause I'm tired