Devil's Dandy Dogs

Swashbuckling carbineers in gas masks encircled the entire perimeter of the hive. They wore dim yellow jackets with faux leather details, double buttonings and zippers. Their trousers were a  one-piece  waterproof  garment with attached boots  that  they  used specifically for  wading within these filthy labyrinths. Their goosesteps gave them away as they marched in a smooth file within the knitted alleys of the hive.

A window hanging off it lower hinge, tore off and toppled down a shabby looking storey building. A head with tousled hair stuck out of it.

"Oui!! Bad bad Very bad..." A shrilled faced little girl lamented, "The Cavs, they're here unannounced... I've got to inform my boss, else things are going to get nasty real fast..."

Instead of taken the stairs, she hopped down a little cat hole into a giant drop tube which took her swirling in loops, down the floors quickly that it took less than could tell, before she was flashed out of it and sent tumbling into a table, causing it to burrow in.

"Lilymoor!!! I told you not to interrupt any of my meetings." A stern masculine voice yelled at the mangled up girl... " Now all the merchandise is jumbled up in a mess... "

"No bargaining anymore, dawg" The dealer opposite him snorted while pulling a pistol from his trench coat. "You know how it goes from now on. Your serving girl, your debt to settle; make it smooth and everyone leaves unscathed."

Momentarily, they were in the basement of what seemed to be a liquor shop up front, Falco's eyes darted from one end to another thinking up a solution out of this mess, but none seem to surface. He owned the place, perhaps he could do something so he wouldn't have to pay for this junk. If only I hadn't been so reluctant about placing a few thugs on a payroll, he lamented inwardly.

He heard the squeaking of the trigger at every inches of the way backwards.

That pistol hasn't been greased for decades, I could tell... If only the bullets are as ancient, the gunpower would have expired by now...right?

His thoughts went wild as sweat trickled down his pale skin. The hair on his skin were standing on ends as chills run up and down his spine. No! I can't take any chances, what if am wrong? My blood splashed over the floors if my own premises.

"What ever you're doing, dawg, it's taking too long." The dealer growled at Falco, "My patience is running out; and don't you dare try anything funny, else I will litter your brain with more holes than that of a sieve."

"Alright! You win." Heaved Falco, finally deciding to maintain the peace as there was nothing he could do to turn the tides in this one. Argh! This is one of those moments I wish my rifle wasn't strapped away in the cabinet under the counter; he dreaded the though of being defenseless.

Moans could be heard coming from the poor girl etched between the tarnished furniture, it was apparent that she could have fractured a few muscles. Moreover,it had been a good five minutes yet Falco spared her not a single glance.

"Boss! Thh---" She murmured under heavy breath.

"Not a word, Lilymoor!" Falco shushed, "You've caused me a lot already; if only you knew what's coming to you, I doubt you would still be lying there in front of me. You would have shoved your twisted waist back between those legs, into the hellhole you sprang out of... "

However, his words fell on deaf ears.

"--e Cavs, tthh-ey a-re he-re!!" She managed to hiss the words right out, taking short breaths within. But Falco wasn't inclined to listen until his ears twitched, picking up the last word.

"Here!" He exclaimed before turning towards the position where sitted the eye patched dealer awhile ago, only to see an empty wooden mite infested chair rocking back and forth...

What happened, he inwardly exclaimed in utter surprise; where's he, did he just zoom off? And without his money? His bewilderment was at it's peak.

He-he! guess my lucky star didn't let down this time arou--- ! A sudden realization drew him out of the daze.

"The Cavaliers are here...?!" He asked himself, as reality became apparent "Oh sh*t!! Those dogfaces are here...?!"

"Thh-at's wh-a-t I wan-ted to---"

"SHUT UP!! LILYMOOR."

Falco's chair was left rocking as he could be seen scuttling up the stairs and bursting out of the wooden door of the basement with a yell "My merchandiseee!!" His voice silenced behind shut doors.

A fairly large man burst out of a trapdoor leading upward into his working lounge, which had a rather lavishly decorated appearance; one that gave off a whole new level of retro element as compared to his basement. As drenched as a giant orca from the depth of the sea of monsters, he flounced up the stair in a blend of rage and fear woven into his face.

Hollow clamps emanated from his heavy steps and sweat soaked the polished wooden floor beneath his feet as he exaggeratedly waded towards his front desk. Falco dreaded the thought of losing his life's work with all the diligence and counter measures devoted into it.

I'd rather die than to watch all my dreams slip away, he voiced his thoughts out loud as he paraded across a vast gallery of anachronistic items like watches, revolvers etc, all of many sizes, designs and frames, strapped in see-through cabinets on his wall.

He took a sharp turn right at the edge of the counter and was now huddled behind it, seemingly struggling to pull something out, or rather, hide something.

"Oh how I yearn for an opportunity to bash one of their faces in without having to take the fall for it…" just his yelling spoke volumes of how he felt about these people.

However, like a wraith he fell silent as he heard the rapid graveyard clamping of their wallington boots, parading past his shop. With a gulp he hurried on with what he was doing as his thoughts lamented. There's no winning when going against these dog faces...acting out will only lead to my discovery, I've got to calm down and wait till this storm subsides… falco calmed his nerves while finally staightening his back…

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